Eibetsu
by Fairytale Warrior
Summary: Alive!Tadashi- Feeling unchallenged by his mandatory introductory classes at SFIT Hiro takes on more than he can chew and falls into a sick abyss of illness. Now he has to participate in a deadly battle against pneumonia on top of a chronic inflammation and no amount of his robotic ingenuity will pull him free. Is Tadashi prepared to get his brother back when Yokai joins the fray?
1. Kazoku

In honor of:

_My fucking dumb big sister who worked herself so hard she got pneumonia._

_._. _

* * *

-Eibetsu-

-Chapter 1-

\- 家族 -

_-Kazoku-_

Being tired was the worst.

Hiro Hamada could avidly attest to this as he trudged through the snow on his way home from a late night at SFIT. Blinking snowflakes out of his eyes and trying not to let his pluming breath distract him, he hefted his backpack over his shoulder into a more secure position. Hiro's hands hurt from working with machines 24/7. His head hurt from thinking so hard for so long. His stomach groaned and tightened and begged for a meal that wasn't instant. Hell, even his butt hurt from sitting around so much.

Oh, and he didn't even want to put a second thought into his poor feet.

From 6 AM to 10:30 PM young Hiro Hamada plowed through classes with all the vigor one could expect of a 14-year-old. At first, surprising his fellow students and his teachers with his intellect had been quite fun but after the first few weeks this had begun to get dull. While what Tadashi had said about learning something in college turned into a truth, the undetermined measurement and consistency of such was rather unattended. For every new concept that clicked into Hiro's head three old ones were introduced to the class.

In an attempt to create a more interesting atmosphere for himself, Hiro had begun to challenge his teachers. His results varied from pride, respect, to scorn. There were those who accepted his challenge- like Mr. Senft- and those who simply started throwing pieces of chalk at him- like Mr. Shinji. Either way, they took some amount of delight in trying to reflect his challenges back in various ways. For Shinji that meant aggressively piling up the homework and for Mr. Senft that meant staying after class to go over theorems and more complicated algorithms.

And yet, truth be told, the youngest Hamada was beginning to feel a little bored. If he could get into the more byzantine classes rather than sit down and work through the mandatory introductions he knew things would be way better. But, in order to get where his big brother was, he'd have to "work for it".

He heaved a sigh and slouched, pulling his jacket closer to himself as he shivered and turned a corner.

Well, rather, he turned _into _a corner. Smacking his shoulder hard against the brick building Hiro recoiled with a hiss at the unexpected return to reality. In order to keep himself on his feet he had to widen his stance and bow his head- a sudden, dangerously severe head rush threatening to topple him.

_Maybe, _he thought dizzily, leaning forward and resting his head against the wall, _I should have actually eaten lunch today instead of testing the chemical absorbency capabilities of plasma._

Groaning quietly, acutely aware of the possibility that he wasn't as alone as he appeared, Hiro put a hand to his head and continued on his way. It had been a full three days since he'd last slept for more than 5 to 10 minutes and he felt his exhaustion in every miserable bone his body held.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing a thick lump in his throat the youngest Hamada wobbled down the street, sticking close to the eaves so he could avoid the snow as much as possible. He was thankful that there weren't that many people out on these streets so late tonight; Hiro wasn't really sure how to appropriately express himself to strangers and would rather not have to deal with such a troublesome thing at this moment.

_I wonder if I'm getting sick with something? _He rubbed a hand against his throat with a cough, writing off its soreness as another part of being awake for so long. Little water and lots of talking could just as easily make his esophagus feel like sandpaper as a cold and he didn't have any other symptoms so…

Like a miracle from some deity, Hiro raised his head to see the familiar building of his Aunt's home bakery. Had he the energy, the teen would have run up to the door right then and there. But as things were in stark reality the prodigy couldn't convince himself to pick up his pace at all and simply stumbled his way up the front steps. After a few moments spent fighting to find his keys in one of fourteen different pockets set among the thick layers he'd adorned himself with, Hiro was able to hobble inside the abrupt warmth of his home.

"I'm back," he mumbled, unable to raise his voice above regular speaking level without fear of it breaking off into a croak.

"Hiro?" his Aunt called from the kitchen_,_ "are you home, sweetie?"

"Yeeeees," He groaned at the same volume, shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes. Clumps of snow drizzled this way and that as he shook himself, batting at his hair.

But Aunt Cass hadn't heard him and called for her youngest child a second time, "Hiro?"

Sighing in exasperation, the teen shrugged off his layers and hung them by the door before tripping his way up the stairs. Each time his foot collided with the back of the steps a harsh stinging ache seared up his foot but he was too tired to summon an appropriate reaction to the abuse. As the blood in his toes and fingers thawed and his limbs increased in weight the young teen arrived at the top of the stairs to see his Aunt leaning over the breakfast bar, eyes searching.

"There you are!" she cried with glee, "didn't you hear me call you?" Hiro opened his mouth to tell her that he had but the bubbly young woman was already moving on, "never mind that, dinner is ready for you." She reached forward to grab his shoulder, clutching him just a little too hard as she tugged him towards the table.

Geeze, it was like she thought he was going to try and escape dinner or something.

Wait.

"Oh, sweetie, are you okay? What happened?" Startled, Hiro turned to his aunt. He found her beside him with a plate in one hand and concern molded into her features. From upstairs he heard the thud of footsteps, indicating that Tadashi was home. He must have looked really confused like that, though; standing there with one hand on the table and the other grasping the back of a kitchen chair, because she put the plate down and took a step towards him. "Let me see your shoulder," she said, reaching for him again.

"What?" Hiro asked, "Wait, why? What's wrong?"

His aunt scoffed, grasping his collar and giving it a gentle tug before her nephew could flutter away. "Don't you try and evade me, young man," she told him sternly, "I saw that look on your face a moment ago. Have you been fighting again?"

The drum of footsteps coming down the stairs spoke of the third family member's introduction to the situation.

"What are you talking about?" Hiro asked, sitting down and scooching away from his Aunt as Tadashi came up beside her.

"What's going on?" he asked, hiding his concern behind a welcoming smile.

"Apparently, I am grievously injured and didn't know it," Hiro explained, deadpan.

Knowing well himself the fussy nature of their aunt, Tadashi's smile became a little more amused. Likewise aware of his younger brother's stubborn disposition he proposed a solution, "Thanks Aunt Cass, why don't you heat up Hiro's dinner for him and I'll take a look at his shoulder." For a moment both brothers thought she might argue but then, with a frown on her face, she turned and grabbed Hiro's plate.

"Alright," she said, "But I want to see it if it's serious!"

Tadashi nodded, "Sure." Pulling himself into a chair beside his grumbling brother as his foster mother made her way towards the microwave he set one hand on Hiro's shoulder. "You haven't been bot fighting again, have you?" he whispered, dipping his long fingers under the neck of his brother's shirt.

As if he'd forgotten that Tadashi was even there, Hiro jolted back, chair screeching across the tile floor and a particularly hard shutter racing through him.

Tadashi frowned, seeming to take the reaction to mean something else, "Hiro, what hav-"

"What, no- I haven't gone to a bot fight in, like, a month, Tadashi!" Thankfully it didn't take the teen to realize what his elder had been trying to ask him while he was zoned out. A deeply weary sigh seemed to deflate the youngest child as he lifted his palms and rubbed them against his eye sockets in a fight to stay awake. "I just bumped into a wall on my way home today, that's all," he explained.

Life hadn't been any easier for Tadashi lately than it had for Hiro- what with the winter robotics fair right around the corner. He wanted to be ready to show off Baymax to possible buyers, like the Red Cross representatives that would be attending. This was his chance to start making connections with important people and take those next few steps closer to helping the world!

And while he might not be taking as many classes as his younger brother, that didn't mean the classes he did take swamped him any less. Hiro knew he'd been trying to make room for him in his schedule but classes, approaching midterms, the fair, and volunteering had been keeping the eldest Hamada's hands full and he had only the brief glimpses between his studies coupled with the words from his friends to assure him that his younger brother was still attending the same school.

Feeling worried and agitated, Tadashi looked to his brother's face. It had been a while, he realized since he'd really managed to get a good look at Hiro and at this moment he couldn't help but regret that.

The poor kid looked beyond exhausted and he shivered as though unconsciously. He was as pale as ivory and soft purple crescents underlined his half-lidded eyes.* A distant beep announced the completion of Hiro's dinner being warmed and Tadashi turned his attention towards his aunt as she approached her boys.

"Alright, young man," she said, using her "Mom-voice", "I know that cottage chicken isn't a favorite of yours but you have to eat up! I don't want you getting sick with that pneumonia that's going around, you hear me?"

But, as it turned out, Hiro hadn't heard her. When the youngest household member failed to respond both elder occupants gave him their full attention, only to discover that he had passed out in his chair, slumped over like a stuffed doll.

There were several moments of flabbergasted silence between the three before Aunt Cass spoke again, "Wow."

"Heh," Tadashi, despite the situation, couldn't help but smile, "I guess SFIT is really making him work hard."

His aunt hummed, folding her arms across her chest and giving her youngest child another brief examination.

"I can't honestly decide what he needs more of right now," she sighed, "food or sleep."

A light laugh escaped Tadashi as he reached once again for his brother, "well, if he gets hungry enough to wake up I'll be sure to bring him something." Tucking his fingers into the younger's shirt he began feeling around the abused area. Beginning gentle palpitations Tadashi sensed his aunt hovering behind him, worried for her young nephew. "Why don't you head off to bed, Aunt Cass?" he proposed kindly, "I'll look after this knucklehead," he gestured to his little brother.

At this a warm smile lit up her face and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a grateful hug, "Well, alright. Come and get me if you need anything, alright?"

"Sure thing."

With that the woman pulled away and headed off to her room with Mochi hot on her heels.

Left alone in the kitchen, hands under his little brother's shirt, Tadashi released a sigh before returning to his work. Other than a small grumble of discomfort when his thumbs pressed against his acromion, Hiro's shoulder seemed to be just fine. Tadashi wasn't too sure what he should believe as far as the cause of the injury went, but, he figured that discovery was something that could wait for tomorrow. Pulling away from his little brother he stood and grabbed the untouched plate. As he covered it with saran wrap, Tadashi stole a glance at the clock set in the stove and winced a little. It was already 11:30 and both he as well as his brother were going to be busy tomorrow.

Quickly setting the plate in the fridge he hurried to his brother's side. Hiro was a few shades shy of weightless when Tadashi lifted him into the air, causing the elder to do a startled double take.

_Maybe SFIT's working Hiro a little too hard, _he thought_._ Had Tadashi overestimated his younger brother's intellect by some margin?

The quivers that continued running through the teen's much smaller frame- and most importantly yet, the half-strained breathing escaped the busy mind of Tadashi Hamada as he took his brother up to bed.

* * *

_*The truth about sleep deprivation, guys, is that it's kind of hard to notice in the facial features. (At least for me?) Every time I end up working for three consecutive days it's only my actions that give me away, not my face. Don't let fan-fiction fool you. _

_*Slumps* I'm tired and I'm hurting and I'm stressed about finals. TT—TT Please excuse the mess, the organization on this one is piss-poor for sure but I wrote it in under an hour so #hereiamcrying. _

_Leave me an O if you liked and an X if you hated!_

_Notice: This story is a work in progress, information in this chapter is subject to change._

_Happy Holidays!_


	2. Iki

_*Whistles* goodness me, that's a lot of reviews. Thanks so much guys, I'm glad that you're enjoying this story so far. :)_

_I've got finals this week so I may be pretty quiet. We'll see when I next update, though. It will depend on how stressed out school makes me._

_Enjoy~_

* * *

-Chapter 2-

\- 息 -

-Iki-

* * *

_[5:20AM]_

It had been _years _since Hiro had suffered his last asthma attack and he'd forgotten just how sucky they were. Lying curled up on his side in the dark like a little pathetic ball of misery he sniffled and choked and tried to persuade the world to stop spinning around him. Clutching his blankets in a vice-like-grip he squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to regain his composure before the sounds of his wheezing woke his brother.

About twenty-four minutes ago he'd woken up, blearily, to the realization that he couldn't get a clear breath. Most people probably would have panicked but, with his previous asthmatic related experiences the youngest Hamada lay where he was entirely unperturbed by his situation. He'd hoped that, with time, the damn attack would diminish on its own and so far it had. If he stayed in bed it was possible that he could persuade his bronchi to stop inflaming with no medical attention but a quick glance at the clock expressed the futility of that plan. With a short huff the adolescent peeled his way out of his sheets, grabbed a pair of clothes set beside the bed, and tiptoed to the bathroom.

He was grateful, if not a bit confused at the start, to find himself waking up in his own bed earlier. Tadashi must have put him there before turning in the night before. Hiro was admittedly uncomfortable, however, when he found out that his brother had also changed him into his pajamas while he slept.

He wondered if Tadashi had noticed anything…

Mortified by the possible revelation of his scars, Hiro blushed at himself as he reached behind the shower curtain and turned the faucet. While the water worked to heat itself behind him he opened the cupboard behind the mirror and fished around for an inhaler. He was just beginning to wonder if they had any left when he came across a golden discovery at the farthest side of the cabinet.

Sure, the thing was old, expired, and dusty but it wasn't like Hiro needed much albuterol anyway. Shaking the red canister vigorously he slipped out of his pajamas and took a puff, inhaling sharply and holding his breath as he threw the object to the counter. Slipping into the shower he slowly exhaled through his nose, basking in the stinging heat of the rushing water for a few moments while he caught his breath.

By the time he was finished the young Hamada's inflamed bronchi had returned to relative normalcy. Clean, more than 25% awake, breathing, and as ready as he could be for the day he slipped out of the bathroom with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His nose was still a little stuffy and mucous bobbed in his sore throat every time he swallowed but he easily set these discomforts out of his mind as trotted down the stairs. Tadashi's first class wouldn't start until 8:00 but he'd probably been up late last night so Hiro did his best to keep himself quiet as he continued preparing for the morning. It was also a Friday so things were going to be busy in the café today. He took care to be quiet for his Aunt as well.

His backpack was down by the stairs with the rest of his stuff so, after setting some toast in the toaster he ran down to slip on his shoes and bundle up. When he was all ready to go he had two slices of buttered toast in his hands and one foot out the door. The morning chill was gripping and merciless, swirling into his agitated lungs and, unbeknownst to Hiro, worsening his condition.

Too hungry to notice the way the cold air temporarily stole his lungs, he eagerly began inhaling his sparse breakfast as he hurried down the street to the corner with the tram sign. Breath pluming in front of his mouth and panting slightly by the time he arrived Hiro leaned against the pole and devoured his last slice of bread, glancing both directions in search of his ride. Before long the tram turned around a bend and came into sight. Smiling tiredly he shouldered his bag and shook away the stars that suddenly bloomed across his vision as the machine approached.

He stepped onto the stairs as the tram came to a hissing stop and pulled out some change for the ride.

"Good morn'n, little fella!" the brown-eyed, cheery driver expressed with a smile, tipping his conductor's hat towards the young college student. A good-humored groan emptied out of Hiro's lips and, depositing his change, he plopped down into the closest seat.

"How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop calling me "little", Ferdinand?" he sighed, caught off guard by the raspy undertone to his voice. Rubbing his throat he leaned his head back against the backrest and melted into the cushions. _Maybe I am getting a cold, _he thought worriedly.

With a hiss the door closed and the tram continued on its way, it's aged, lanky driver chortling with amusement, "and how can you have so much energy anyway?" Hiro snapped, diverting his attention away from his failing body.

"Ahah," Ferdinand gave a wrinkly smile and lifted a dark eyebrow, inclining his head towards the youngster, "you see, us old folks each have a set of superpowers," he began teasingly and Hiro moaned with dismay. But the old man continued despite his obvious distress, "We get our energy from feeding off of children!"

With a huff Hiro dared to close his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and giving a grumbled retort, "well, good luck with that one, then. I'm sure your biology must be pretty special to be able to break down 120 lbs or less per kid and let's not even consider bone structure and the pH value of your stomach acid."

But Ferdinand just laughed again before starting up a friendly conversation with his regular morning passenger. Fifteen minutes into a lengthy- mostly one sided discussion about Ferdinand's youngest granddaughter Hiro reached his stop.

"Alrighty kiddo, off you go to that special robotics school of yours!" Ferdinand started, turning to the Japanese-American sitting behind him with a crooked smile. A split second later his grin dissolved at the sight of a young Hiro Hamada slumped in his seat and looking terribly like he was fast asleep. Soft crow's feet thickened around the old man's eyes and a fond smile formed his lips. Securing the tram he forced himself to work his creaky bones into a standing position. Back popping and shoulders shifting, knees knocking together, the old Englishman approached the boy.

A small groan worked its way past his lips as he crouched down beside his passenger and readied himself to rouse the boy-genius. A split second before his gnarled hand could land on Hiro's shoulder, however, he stopped. Under the bright tram lights he looked whiter than the fresh flakes of hesitant snow and the larger circles under his eyes seemed a deeper shade of purple than they had been the day before. For a moment he listened to the sound of wheezing, but, in his age, could not seem to figure out where it was coming from. Sighing deeply he reluctantly squeezed Hiro's shoulder and called out to him. He woke with a start, surprised to find Ferdinand out of his twisted seat before he caught a glimpse of the time.

5:54 AM.

In his rising panic Hiro completely missed the old man's concern, leaping to his feet and grabbing his backpack. With a curse he nearly flew towards the open tram door and into the fluttering snowflakes outside.

Deprived of nearly all his body's necessities the college student accidentally slipped into an older tongue as he leapt out the door, "arigatō, ojiisan!" He was gone before Ferdinand could formulate a reply. And if the old man watched him go a little longer than was strictly necessary Hiro never noticed.

* * *

_[7:23 AM]_

Professor Shinji Akimoto- a "pure-blood" Japanese robotics teacher with salt and pepper hair- was a broken record, Hiro decided as he sat begrudgingly listening to the nonsense the middle-aged man spouted. He began the day at 6 AM so he could spout off about Robert Callahan's recent hospitalization and brief the class on the risks of using untested equipment- an exercise that no-one in the class was very fond of. Although the fire that had almost taken Professor Callahan's and, horrifyingly enough, Tadashi's lives had burned through the exhibition hall about a month and a half ago the left overs of the traumatic experience could be seen all across campus.

And it certainly didn't put Hiro in good graces for many who suspected his microbots started the damn thing.

While, he had learned that college students were typically very unlike highschool students, the fact that teachers such as Shinji and misguided reporters chose to detail Callahan's injuries as though they were his fault did not sit well. And although he was tired of it Hiro would continue to defend himself and his microbots until he was either killed or kicked out of the school.

If it hadn't been for his bots Callahan would have died for sure instead of suffering 2nd degree burns all over the place.

The metal in the bots conducted heat when they rubbed against each other and he used that to help keep them energized so they were always at least a little warm while in use. Hiro had intended on redesigning them later to function off of Carbon dioxide or maybe nitrate gas residues but this project was still a bit of a work in progress as he wanted the bots to be capable of working underwater as well.

But the point of the digressing matter was that even though the heat from his microbots had wounded Callahan he could have come out of the fire much worse off than he had.

Hiro was stuck in his thoughts at this point, small shudders running up and down his spine as he recalled just how close his elder brother had come to being burned to death that night. Cheek pressed against his palm and eyes distant the teen could practically feel the heat of the flames lapping against his skin. He could feel his brother's shirt fisted in his hands and the way his desperate shouts for him to _staypleasestay _had vibrated in his throat. Hiro could even hear the screams of people running from the raging inferno…

"_**Hiro Hamada!**_" He jerked at the angry sound of his teacher calling his name from the front of the room. Coming to attention he found himself the center of local attention with the entirety of the class's tired glassy gazes fixed on him from all around.

"Um, sir?" he questioned, suppressing a yawn.

It was pretty clear by this point that he hadn't been paying attention and the older man scoffed. Hiro received several sympathetic looks from his classmates as his teacher muttered about the incapabilities of students who slipped into "his" school on "simple" scholarships.

"Although I _appreciate,_" his professor ground out, once again making Hiro wonder why he didn't just dropout of this class and retake it with a new teacher next quarter, "the fact that you performed well enough to receive a scholarship personally from Professor Callahan, do keep in mind that you have a midterm coming up."

Hiro examined the powerpoint presentation that his teacher was showing the class and glanced down at his notes, observing the blankness of the page before him. At the corner of his desk a small green android sat, eyes blinking between black and white as it documented important notes. The bar on its back explained the limited amount of data it had obtained in the past hour and a half. He'd programmed it to store information that he could learn from and to discard information in seminars that he already knew, allowing himself the chance to doze in certain classes. If it weren't for the fact that he did not want to get hit in the head by chalk that was, apparently, needed for no other purpose, Hiro would have allowed himself the opportunity to collapse in _this _class _long_ ago.

Wincing as his professor continued on with his lesson the teen set his fingers against each temple, fighting off the sudden pain stabbing through his skull. When it had abated enough for him to return his attention upwards Hiro found himself gaping at what his teacher had written.

"If you are going to invest in a robotic welding system- which you should since the required skill to weld by hand is outdated- you are going to want to use a large-diameter contact tip to prevent burnback-" his professor was explaining, an image of a robotic welding system popping up onto the screen behind him. He stopped speaking and turned when he caught sight of Hiro's hand in the air.

"_What is it, _Mr. Hamada," Shinji grouched.

"That's not right," he began, confusion etched into his face. A particularly dark look crossed his teacher's expression and Hiro almost recoiled in shock. Shinji was mean but he didn't usually look like he wanted to murder his youngest student.

"And how would you like to enlighten us?" he asked, gesturing to the rest of the class with a twitching eyebrow.

For a moment Hiro hesitated, then he stiffened and held his head high; he sure as shit wasn't going to let this man mislead his students.

He took a deep breath before providing his explanation, praying that the wheeze that was released from the effort went unnoticed by all but himself, "actually, a small-diameter contact tip does a better job of preventing burnbacks because it doesn't cause frequent microarcing like the large-diameter contact tips do." When his teacher did not reply and continued glaring, Hiro felt obligated to continue, "during use a contact tip bore increases as it heats up. Therefore it can become larger due to mechanical wear- like when the wire is being fed through it. So, contact tips with larger IDs can allow the weld current transfer point to vary."* It took everything he had not to slouch at the end of his speech, breath taken by the simple effort his performance had required. Clenching his fists he met his professor's eyes, listening to the uncomfortable shuffling from his classmates.

Perhaps Shinji was having a bad morning that day, or maybe he hadn't slept very well, or maybe the snow was getting to him because the middle-aged professor proceeded to storm towards his youngest pupil and pick up his backpack.

Shoving it into Hiro's arms he grabbed the boy by his bicep and hauled him to his feet. Scrambling to gather the materials on his desk Hiro stumbled after him as Shinji growled, "I know your upbringing has been a little more pampered than the rest of ours, Hamada, but that does not give you the right to lead my students astray." Pushing the much smaller adolescent towards the door he continued, "If we all performed our projects the same way you did no-one would be alive." The door was ripped open and Hiro practically thrown out into the hall, earning startled looks from passing students who had not yet started classes. "When you feel ready to show some respect, boy, you may return to my class," with that the door was slammed shut behind him.

Dizzy and stunned, his arm aching and his head receiving sharp stabs Hiro tried to keep his breathing normal. It was too late to keep a low-profile, though, as another student stopped beside him.

"A bit of a jerk, isn't he?" the taller American asked with a sheepish smile. He had short blonde hair and brown eyes, a plaid shirt and ripped jeans. An over-the-shoulder-bag rested against his hips and his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

"Y-yeah," Hiro gasped, obviously breathless. Blushing in mortification, he turned on his heel, "I gotta get going, have a good day."

"Woah, easy there," the twenty-year-old began, concern in his eyes as he stepped into Hiro's path, "maybe you should sit down for a moment, kid."

"I am not," he started rasping but paused for breath, "a child!"

The blonde held up both hands in a gesture of peace, "Okay, okay, I get it." He leaned forward a moment later and set a steadying palm on Hiro's shoulder, "but your breathing doesn't sound too good, let me escort you to-"

_Nopenopenope, _he thought frantically and stepped away, memories of botfights gone wrong flashing through his frontal lobe as he uncomfortably side-stepped the elder student.

"I'm fine," he snapped dizzily, trying not to sway too obviously- _God, he felt awful-_ "Please leave me alone." That said he shouldered his bag and turned on his heel, jogging away. He was pleased when the elder student didn't try to pursue him and, after a few moments, he slowed down.

Leaning over with his hands on his knees and breath pluming in the cold air before him Hiro was beginning to wonder if he'd be able to make it as far as Tadashi's lab before he took too deep a breath and doubled over into one of the harshest coughing fits he'd had this century.

It was totally uncontrollable and it ripped through his exhausted frame like a tornado ripped a house off the ground. Phlegm splattered the pavement in front of him, dotted with specks of what could have been blood and Hiro had to wonder just how long he'd been coughing and clearing his throat and struggling without noticing these past few days. Lightheadedness made his head spin and weakness made his knees wobble. The young college student was starting to wonder if he would ever be able to stop coughing or if he needed an ambulance _becausehecouldn'tbreatheanymore!_

By the time he was done Hiro was on the ground, heaving so hard his entire body was rattling. He could taste blood and mucous in his throat, his esophagus felt as though it was totally on fire, and his head seemed to be splitting in two. A few passerby's glanced at him but didn't stop, one woman asked him if he was feeling okay and he nodded as best he could, all the while regretting having come to school today at all.

He wasn't really sure how long he sat there for but by the time he got up and entered the next building more people were passing through the halls as the following classes started. That probably meant that it was almost 8:00 by now and Tadashi's lab would be free.

_Good, _Hiro thought, _at least there I might be able to get a little bit of peace and quiet. _

_And maybe some painkillers._

* * *

_*Please take note: I am an _environmental scientist _not a robotisist. My robotics skills are very rusty. _

_Again, leave me an O if you liked and an X if you didn't!_

_Happy holidays, and good luck with school to those of you who are prepping for your finals!_


	3. Byōki

-Chapter 3-

\- 病気 -

-Byōki-

Hiro had officially reached a point of no return. He felt like he had half a foot in limbo and the other through death's front door as he stumbled through the halls to a less populated part of the university; the wing where all the labs were. A distant buzzing was all he needed to know that he had the right door when he heaved against the metal and entered the familiar work space. Knowing the risk of stumbling through an active lab with his eyes closed, Hiro yawned wheezily and worked his palms into his eye sockets for a moment.

He braved a light cough and lifted his head, desperately trying to suppress those that followed as he surveyed the room. Several students he hadn't met yet were quietly performing small experiments- the one he'd seen the first time testing out some cat boosters still working hard in his little corner of the room. If he'd been any more energetic Hiro might have smiled at the innocent memories the elder man's efforts brought to him. He distinctly remembered the feeling of joy he'd experienced upon watching a _very _shocked Mochi take flight for the first time. Lifting his head to the skies and releasing a quiet whoop of excitement he hadn't noticed the animal's quick journey to Tadashi's side of the room back then.

Yeah, he'd gotten in quite a bit of trouble for that one.

Covering his mouth and forcing himself to hold his breath he searched the room for any of 5 different familiar figures. When he saw none, the young prodigy shuffled across the lab. He cast a longing look at Fred's arm chair, allured even despite the grease stains and less than appealing smell. But he was afraid that if he slept outside someone- if not one of Tadashi's friends then Tadashi himself- would find him and that would just be straight up embarrassing. Hiro knew too well the risks sleeping in public even when his lungs weren't threatening to close up on him. When he was as tired as he felt right now he had a tendency to snore in his sleep. Tadashi told him he was loud, like a boar, and Aunt Cass said he sounded like a sleeping kitten.

Hiro found he wasn't terribly fond of either these things.

With one last sluggish glance around the lab the youngest Hamada slipped into his brother's personal workspace and almost immediately dropped his bag on the floor. He'd been keeping two of his jackets in his backpack until now but with no couch in sight he reached for them. Ripping them out of his bag and bundling them up under his arms he tottered over to a pleather chair at Tadashi's desk. Dumping his cargo he sat in the chair and vigorously suppressed the urge to lean back and pass out. He knew he'd only end up feeling worse when he woke up so he reached out and pulled at a drawer, fishing around for the painkillers he knew Tadashi hoarded.

It felt like he'd discovered gold when his quivering fingers wrapped around the plastic bottle and he pulled it out, popped the cap, and poured two capsules into his hand. He took them dry and returned the bottle with little thought. Finally leaning back in his seat Hiro attempted to release a long sigh of contentment as his muscles were finally given a moment to relax

An instant later he regretted this as he once again erupted into a fit of savage coughs. He could taste blood in his mouth, probably from a torn throat or something, and salty phlegm that he was too tired to really do anything about. Curling up into the chair as best he could he bundled the two thin jackets to form a makeshift pillow and snuggled in. In any other case the tight position he presently had would have been uncomfortable but Hiro was so tired that just the simple act of laying down felt like heaven on Earth.

_Only twenty minutes, _he promised himself, setting an alarm on his phone and trying not to pant, _just enough rest to give my body a bit of a boost. I'll fill in the rest of my exhaustion with an energy drink and then go to class after._

Within moments he could feel himself drifting off, stuck in a blurred reality filled with the faint echoes of distant sound, the equally distant ache of his muscles and stinging throat, as well as every other problem he was suffering. He must have been literally seconds away from passing out when the door opened with an exceptionally loud _bang._

"Tadashi, my man!" Fred howled, fluttering into the room with the helm of his suit underarm.

Hiro's heart leapt into his throat and he tumbled from his precarious perch, thudding against the ground with an unmanly yelp of pain. The black chair skated back across the floor, narrowly missing the surprised blonde at the door.

"Oh, hey, Hiro!" Fred greeted, probably with a dopey grin on his face as the youngest Hamada struggled to regain composure from his position on the floor. He was having a rather difficult time, however, as he'd hit his head against the concrete and now his killer headache had returned with all the vengeance of a psychotic ex. A long groan of pain withered out of him as he wrapped his body around his head to the best of his masculine ability.

"Woah," Fred's voice had lowered with concern and the sound of footsteps coming closer alerted Hiro to his situation, "Are you okay, dude?"

Forcing himself up, wavering dizzily and still clutching his head he practically collapsed against the desk behind him before replying with an audible rasp, "I'm f-fine."

"Yo, you don't sound fine," the blond comic-lover returned skeptically, observing the small teenager with confused concern in his eyes.

"I'm _fine_, Fred," Hiro insisted, his eyes still clenched shut. He was hardly aware that he was leaning off to the side, just a few precarious moments away from falling flat on his face again.

But Fred saw the lie for what it was and his worry was only heightened when he noticed the teen slipping.

"Hey," he reached out and caught Hiro's upper right arm, pulling him back up with a suggestion just on the tip of his tongue. He wasn't really sure he knew how to deal with this kind of situation. Being an only child meant that he had no idea where his boundaries were and when he needed to push them. Even in this moment, with Hiro dead on his feet and needing help but clearly not ready to accept it, he wasn't sure what to do.

He came to a conclusion, however, when Hiro aggressively tore his arm free and stumbled away from Fred with a dangerous scowl.

"Just leave me alone!" he gasped, clutching his arm as though he'd been hurt somehow.

"Woah, okay, chill out, bro!" Fred said, setting the helmet down so he could hold up both hands in a placating gesture, "just relax, Hiro." His little friend chose not to reply, instead massaging his temples and looking dreadfully miserable.

If the room hadn't been as quiet as it was, Fred would never have heard Hiro's miserable whisper, "I just want to sleep." Pity welled up inside him and he sighed, brushing a hand against the back of his head and situating his hat a little.

"Why don't you sleep in my armchair?" he offered as Hiro stumbled over to Tadashi's desk chair.

"Too loud," he returned simply and curled up on the seat.

"I can totes move it in here for you, dude," Fred stated, glancing to the door. He wasn't given a response so he looked back at his friend and found him seemingly unconscious.

And, despite the situation, Fred just _could not _help himself.

He took a picture.

And sent it to Tadashi.

* * *

_[Tadashi- 8:15 AM]_

If Tadashi's morning class hadn't been canceled he probably would have bolted out of his seat and rushed to his brother's side in the middle of his professor's seminar. As it was he found himself heading to the labs at a pace just a few steps shy of a jog already. Fred's text had interrupted his private study session but Tadashi didn't care.

In the library he kept his phone on silent but its buzz had courted his attention quickly and he'd paused to take a quick glance.

The picture Fred had sent him of Hiro fast asleep in his desk chair would have been a million times funnier if not for the caption it had come with.

_Yo, dude, I think your bro's really sick. His breathing is sounding pretty wonky. Probs should get over here ASAP._

His over-the-shoulder bag slapping against his thigh, the strap cutting into his shoulder, Tadashi bit his lip.

The Hamadas didn't get sick lightly.

When Tadashi was four he'd almost died of the flue. When their half-cousin, Maya fell ill with bronchitis seven years ago she'd been stuck in the hospital for almost a month. And Tadashi would never forget the day his mother had told him of his grandfather's passing.

They were the kind of people who almost never got sick with anything, but, when they did suffer the misfortune of pestilence's touch they fell down _hard. _And although Hiro had some strange skill for avoiding serious hospitalizations his elder brother would argue that he courted trouble far too often than he was comfortable with.

Breezing down the hall and leaving the library the eldest Hamada clutched the strap of his bag in one hand and broke into a jog until he reached the Active Science Wing building across the school. Several people greeted him but he couldn't stop and talk. He merely gave a meek wave and a strained smile as he hurried through the corridor.

When he finally got to his lab he found Fred standing beside the door, periodically peeking inside at something that he couldn't see.

"Fred!" he called, approaching his friend with little thought for the active trials occurring around the room.

His friend turned to him with an expression that was somewhere between startled, worried, and impressed, "Oh, hey. You got here fast, man!"

Out of breath but unwilling to waste a moment Tadashi took off his bag and stepped towards the door so he could peer through the crack without entering.

"How is he?" he asked, concern obvious in his tone as he searched for his younger sibling.

Fred smiled and stepped past him with a soft laugh at his concern, "seems mostly tired, dude." When Tadashi slipped in behind him, his anxiety unwavering, he said, "Tadashi, man, take it easy, he's not dying!"

That made him pause and evaluate himself for a moment. He realized how frantic he probably appeared. Out of breath, eyebrows drawn together, gaze searching feverishly, bag gripped so tightly his knuckles where white- Tadashi most certainly behaved as though his brother was on his deathbed. Forcing himself to relax he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, broad shoulders rising and falling slowly with the movement.

Feeling more controlled he opened his eyes and met Fred's easy-going grin with a reassuring smile.

"Sorry," he said, "I guess I've gotten used to people being seriously ill when they get sick in my family."

Fred nodded sagely in understanding, "It's the same thing in comic books, man, I get it. Anytime anybody gets sick they die tragically- usually holding the hand of a crying loved one and bleeding out internally or-"

An image of his grandfather slipping through his mind, Tadashi couldn't stop himself from interrupting hurriedly, "Anyway, where is he?"

"Ah, right there in your chair," his friend pointed to the black pleather work chair pushed a few feet away from his desk and Tadashi started towards it. The sight of his little brother tucked away in the seat made him pause, a smile daring to form on his lips. Although Hiro's cheeks were a little too pink, his breath sounding wheezy, eyes bruised with sleep deprivation, and expression taut with stress, he still managed to look adorable. He was so expertly curled into the curve of the chair that it was impossible to see him from behind- and knowing Hiro that's probably what he'd hoped for.

He remembered the exhaustion his little brother had exhibited the day before with a grimace, feeling now that letting him attend school today had been a bad decision.

Leaning down Tadashi gently put a hand on Hiro's forehead, slipping it behind the messy fringe of crazy black hair. He knew Fred was looming over his shoulder without needing to look but he was more focused on the state of his younger brother to bother shooing him away. And besides, who was he to chase a friend away?

Beneath his palm, Hiro felt warmer than he should have with his forehead just a little bit damp from perspiration. As though chilled, he moved away from his elder brother's hand with a short grunt and a wheeze. Concerned as his little brother quivered Tadashi leaned forward and listened intently to his breathing.

Each breath that Hiro inhaled was accompanied by several high pitched, almost squeaking sounds that made him wince. He suspected that the problem was something familiar and, although he wasn't totally certain just yet, he was already formulating a reprimand for his brother to listen to when he straightened and headed to Baymax's storage case. Hiro was supposed to _tell _someone when this started happening!

"Hey, what's up?" Fred asked before he realized where the eldest Hamada was headed. "Ahah, use Baymax to fix him up! Why didn't I think of that? I totes could have saved you the trouble of coming down here, sorry bro."

"Hey, it's fine, Fred," Tadashi assured him, pressing a button on the side of the bright red case and watching as his creation emerged from his station, "If it weren't for you guys telling me what that Bonehead is up to, I'd never know where he is."

Together, the two science enthusiasts watched his creation waddle out of his station and approach them. Already so accustomed to the introduction Tadashi mouthed along with Baymax as he announced himself with a small wave.

"Hello," he said, "I am Baymax, your personal health care companion. You have chosen to activate me manually. What seems to be the trouble?" The squishy robot tilted his head to the side and lowered his hand.

"Alright Baymax," Tadashi said and stepped away, "Today we've got your first real test in the field." He gestured to his brother, "Hiro has managed to catch a bug, I need you to scan him and determine what he has and how to treat it."

His creation nodded and waddled over to the chair his latest patient was resting in.

"Scanning patient," he announced and a quick head-bob later, he proclaimed, "Scan complete. Body temperature is 101.4 degrees Fahrenheit and rising. Increased levels of prolactin and cortisol hormones indicate sleep deprivation in the patient's body. Scans also indicate that the patient's bronchi and lymph nodes in the neck are inflamed. And, I have found a large contusion on his upper right arm." There was a small pause as Baymax added all his data together, a human diagram with the aforementioned portions lit up on his belly and blinking thoughtfully, "Diagnosis: Hiro is experiencing a mild asthmatic attack and a case of the common cold."

Tadashi released a breath he didn't know that he was holding and approached his brother's side.

"Whew!" Fred gasped, "Wow, I thought it was going to be something way worsewhatisasthma?"

For a moment all Tadashi could do was blink at his friend, struggling to separate the flash of words that his sentence had ended with into something more comprehensible.

"I will now begin treatments," Baymax was apparently way more efficient at translating his friend because a moment after a breathing mask emerged from the palm of his right hand he began to explain, "asthma is a chronic respiratory condition marked by spasms in the bronchi of the lungs, causing difficulty in breathing. It is more common in children than it is in adults as its severity often decreases with age."

"Woah," Fred replied, "that sounds like serious juujuu, man."

"I will administer a small dose of albuterol sulfate inhalation solution, 0.083%," Baymax explained, then began to provide a list of recommended treatments for Hiro's cold, "And then, with your permission, I will examine the contusion on his arm."

Tadashi wasn't totally listening to the conversation anymore. Baymax had just confirmed his suspicions, after all: Hiro was suffering an asthmatic relapse. With the cold and dry winter air, coupled with a bug even as simple as the common cold, his little brother's condition could easily veer into life threatening. Tadashi wondered how long his asthma had been bothering him, how long Hiro had gone without sleep, and vowed to take him home as promptly as he could.

Paranoia swirled around his head, though; what if Hiro didn't just have a cold? What if it was something worse? Fred's words from earlier struck him and he shook himself, trying to relax.

As Baymax gently fitted the oxygen mask against his brother's face, Hiro finally stirred.

Tadashi stiffened, having been nursing a hope that he could get his brother home without waking him and therefore without any complaint.

He wasn't ready for Hiro to open his eyes and let out a garbled shout of surprise at the sight of Baymax right in front of him.

* * *

_AN: I'm really sorry if anyone is OOC in this one guys; I have gotten somewhere around 9 to 12 hours of sleep this week. I've worked about 128 hours total so far…._

_Anyway, does anyone know the true extent of Baymax's capabilities? Maybe it's because I'm sleep deprived but I can't remember if he has a built in X-ray or not. How far has Tadashi gone in making him? I think I'm over thinking this._

_*Gathers everyone up in a warm, snuggly hug* I'm too tired to be acting normal right now, I'm sorry. ;_;_

_If you liked please leave me an O, if you hated please leave me an X._

_Cheers!_


	4. Aza

_*Is blown off into the distance by the sheer enormity of the view/fav/follow/review count*_

-Chapter 4-

\- あざ -

-Aza-

* * *

Voices.

The shuffling of clothes.

The squeak of-

What was that?

Something cold and soft was pressing into his face, forming a pear-shaped circle around his mouth and nose.

_Wow, rude, _he thought, half delirious as he shifted in hopes of dodging around this strange violation. _Just go away, _he thought miserably, heart beating to the rhythm of his headache. Compulsively Hiro's eyes opened, thick black lashes pulling apart and revealing a world of white a frighteningly short distance away from his face. He mentally traced the two black circles joined by a thin line for a moment before coming to terms with the idea that he was no longer peacefully, blessedly alone.

The very second he caught sight of the awkward blob-thing cupped over his mouth and nose, Hiro jerked back. Wildly kicking out his legs- "Woah!" -he was harshly reminded of his unstable perch when it shot out from under him- "Hiro!"- for the second time that day. Yelping with surprise he tumbled towards the floor only to be caught by bulbous, steady, vinyl hands. The world around him spun wildly as he was lifted up and held against something warm.

"Hiro?"

When he'd finally managed to collect himself, Hiro found the familiar face of his brother's robotics project staring down at him with what could have been an imploring expression in his fathomless black eyes.

"You fell," Baymax stated, as though his patient had no idea what had happened. Which really wasn't all that surprising given the incredulous expression on Hiro's face.

"What the-" he rasped, coughing in attempts to clear his throat and causing another fit. "Gaaahhh," he moaned miserably, trying to lift a hand up so he could rub at his sore throat. He found himself completely immobile, wrapped snugly in the large surprisingly comfortable bot's arms. Catching movement from the corner of his eye, he met Tadashi's amused grin with an irritated scowl.

"What are you trying to do to me?" he croaked as though he thought his brother might be trying to perform strange and grotesque experiments on him.

At the sound of his voice Tadashi grimaced in commiseration and remarked, "Geeze, Bonehead, how many frogs are you hiding down there?"

There was a quick buzz from above him as Baymax scanned his patient with an almost distressed movement.

"My scans indicate that Hiro has zero frogs inside of him," he reported quickly. A fond smirk lifted both brother's faces before Fred decided it was time to resurface and suddenly bounded forward, swinging his body across Baymax's shoulder with excitement equivocal to a 3 year old on a candy high.

"But what if they're _invisible frogs?!_"

Tadashi was half tempted to slap his hand against his forehead. Meanwhile, Baymax tilted his head to the side curiously and pointed out that "he had no knowledge that such a thing existed in his database."

"Alright, well, whatever is going on can stop now," Hiro began uncertainly, "I need to get to my next class…"

In response his health care guard dog tightened his grip, "I would highly recommend against that."

"Oh yeah," Tadashi agreed, eyebrows raising as he gave his brother a look that clearly promised a future lecture, "You're going home Bonehead."

"What?" the younger squawked, wriggling unsuccessfully in Baymax's arms, "Why- I'm fin-" aaaannnd _more __**coughing.**_

Aware that'd he blown any chance he'd had at proving himself well (not that he'd _had _a chance to begin with) Hiro unleashed a fussy groan and went limp.

Obviously unconvinced, his brother raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, "are you now?"

Fred laughed at that and patted Hiro on the head, "relax, little guy!" –the teen scowled vehemently at him- "it's just a cold. Plenty of rest, soup, and video games will clear that right up in no time!"

"Ooooh, no," Tadashi rebuffed as he headed to a counter in the far corner, "you don't even get to play video games, Hiro, all you're doing for the next three days is sleeping."

If Hiro could pale any more he'd be a ghost but before he could protest Fred voiced his distress for him.

"No way!" he shouted, making the youngest Hamada flinch and Baymax scanned him obsessively, "That's torture, dude! How could you do something like that?!"

Tadashi just hummed and grabbed a plastic water bottle before turning back to his friends and family, "Hey, do you know when Wasabi gets out of class?"

"Uh, I think his Forces of Energy class ends at 9:20, why?" Fred replied.

Seeing his brother approaching with the bottle Hiro once again struggled to free one of his arms and cursed lightly when his efforts bounced back in failure.

At the sound Tadashi popped him on the head disapprovingly, "don't swear," he said, handing the object to Baymax who proceeded to try and perform the equivalent of bottle feeding his thrashing patient.

"Well, I'm worried that Hiro won't be able to hold on safely if I try to take him home on my moped-"

"-Oh my gosh, _I'm fine!-_"

"-You must hold still-"

"-Baymax- ugh- gack-"

"You are not being a very good patient-"

"For the love of- _Tadashi! _I _swear _if Baymax does not let me go soon I'll re-p-place his voice mo-cough-ulator with a sassy b-black- black lady's aga-in!" *

At the reminder of that lovely incident Tadashi winced and Fred threw his head back and howled. A few weeks ago he had been trying to urge Hiro to come home sooner in multiple fashions and one of his methods had included hiding or eating his little brother's dinner. To riot against this tactic Hiro had fiddled with Baymax's circuitry while his big brother was in classes and by the time Tadashi had returned to his lab later that day he'd been in for a major surprise. He'd activated Baymax to get some burn cream for Wasabi who'd accidentally come a little too close to his own lasers. The two men had been ready for the initial introduction, but they certainly weren't prepared for what they got:

"_Guuuurlll! Watcha wakin' me up for?! Yall __**know **__I need my beautysleep!" _

For several moments the two had just stood there gawking as Tadashi's creation set his hands on his hips and bobbed his head in traditional sassy-black-lady fashion. Then Baymax had found Wasabi's wound and things had only gotten worse thereafter.

"_Look at dat, what'ja do tah yarself?! Eeeeeesshh, guuuurrll, that is __**na-sty!**__"_

While Wasabi had erupted into a fit of girlish shrieks of gleeful laughter Tadashi had called Hiro, pulled him out of his class, and forced his little brother to fix the problem. It had taken quite a while before he managed to get Hiro to stop changing Baymax's- who actually seemed to be _enjoying _these new additions- voice modulator into everything _but _what Tadashi asked for.

While Hiro coughed and coughed miserably, curling compulsively into Baymax's arms, his brother had a hard time fixing a well-deserved glare on the boy.

"That was literally the best day of the school year I have had so far!" Fred remarked.

"Stop encouraging him, Fred," Tadashi sighed, then addressed Baymax, "You can go ahead and put him down- if he carries on like this he's going to tear himself apart."

Seeming concerned by this news, Baymax did as he was instructed and gently lowered his patient to the floor. The moment that his sneakered feet touched the ground Hiro reached up and tore the bottle of water from the med-bots fingers, then chucked back his head and downed the entire thing in one go. A loud, wheezy gasp escaped him when he was finished and he slumped forwards, panting as though he'd run a marathon. Tadashi instinctively reached out but let his hands hover in front of his grumbling little brother without touching him, ready in case he fell.

"Hey, Fred, could you go and let Mr. Yarborough know that I won't be in class to present today? Tell him that I'll send him an email so we can discuss when I might be able to make it up next week," feeling guilty Tadashi bit his lip and glanced compulsively between his little brother and his friend. He didn't like sending people out to carry messages like owls and he could definitely just email his teacher but he felt like if he didn't talk to Hiro alone he'd never be able to care for him properly.

But Fred, bless him, understood the meaning behind Tadashi's words and saluted with his trademark dopey grin, "Sure thing!"

In moments he was out the door and the Hamada brothers were alone. Seeing that Fred had departed Hiro allowed himself to fall forwards and slump back in Tadashi's desk chair with a long, shaky, moan.

"I take it tha-" he began but his big brother shushed him with a bop on the head for emphasis.

"Nope, no talking until you let Baymax fix that asthma problem," he denied.

Hiro's teeth clacked together and he tried to look angry but with his face flushed and his shoulders rising and falling rapidly, accompanied with each worrisome wheeze, Tadashi couldn't find the strength in himself to feel intimidated.

"Are you ready to receive treatment now?" Baymax asked kindly.

"I don't really need it," Hiro grumbled and Tadashi observed his little brother's death-grip on the jacket he sat on, like he needed something to hold him to reality. He noticed the way his entire chest inflated then fell with a convulsive bounce, like all his effort went into inhalation and the exhalation was exhausted.

He bit his lip, _We riled him up to much, now it's gotten worse. _

"You do," Baymax countered, and began to show a diagram of what was happening to Hiro's body from the inside as well as what might happen if he continued to refuse treatment. Tadashi made a mental note that he needed to add a more forceful feature to Baymax's programming as his little brother shook his head desperately.

"Fine, fine, fine, fine! Just do your thing then!" He gasped, hunching forward.

Tadashi stepped closer to him, and squatted, setting a hand on Hiro's shoulder as Baymax fitted the breathing mask against his little brother's face.

"Hey," he said softly, watching as Hiro's big brown eyes peeked up at him from under a black curtain. Tadashi made a rise-and-fall gesture with his hand and murmured encouragement, "It's okay, just breathe." He could see the mortification in his little brother's eyes relax a little when he saw no discouraging judgment in his elder's gaze. A low humming erupted from within Baymax's body and, as a white, wispy gas crawled through the tubing towards his brother's mouth, Hiro gave a shaky nod.

For the first five minutes of this treatment Tadashi stayed at Hiro's side. But he was still sure to give his little brother enough space to relax as he looked over the latest design plans he had for Baymax's skeletal structure. Occasionally he'd glance at his younger brother to check on him, then take a look at the data displayed across his robot's belly and nod his approval at the rising and lowering numbers.

His brother's heart rate had risen a little and a trembling had begun to rack his small frame- side effects of the treatment. Sympathy welled up inside him as Hiro curled into a ball, mindful of the mask attached to his face. When he was younger and his asthma attacks had been a little more frequent- back when the two still had their parents to live with them- Tadashi would sit with his younger brother and read to him while he took this medication.

He wondered if Hiro remembered that…

"Alright," he finally said, dropping his notes to the ground with a startling _smack_, "Where did you say that contusion was, Baymax?" He pretended not to notice the way his brother jerked.

"Hiro's injury is on his upper right bicep," the med-bot told him. "I would recommend using a-"

"Hey, relax," Tadashi smiled, pulling a tube of arnica cream out of the cabinet above his desk, "I know what I'm doing here, big guy."

"Hey wait, let's talk about this," Hiro, ever reluctant to be treated, pushed a foot against the ground and rolled away from his elder brother with a look of distaste on his face.

"What's there to talk about, it's just a bruise," Tadashi remarked and took a step closer to his brother only to have him roll in a circle around Baymax- who shuffled along with his patient's movements.

"Yeah," Hiro agreed, "it's just a bruise. It doesn't need any of that."

Tadashi raised an eyebrow at the nervousness in his little brother's voice and lunged for him abruptly. Yelping as his arms closed around him, the younger immediately tried shoving his sibling away.

"Gack, Tadashi, get off!" He grunted, but his body was weak and his hands trembled and he couldn't hold the much larger and stronger male off of him.

"Let me see it, Hiro," Tadashi replied sternly.

"I advise against this as it could aggravate Hiro's condition," Baymax said, squeaking along with the rolling chair. With some flailing and earning himself a clipped jaw in the process, he at last managed to pin his little brother down and unzip his jacket.

Left with little other defense, Hiro began to yell, "Help, help! Incest!" he shouted, "rape!"

"Would you just shut up!" Tadashi squawked and would have covered his brother's mouth if it wasn't already. Yanking the sweater off his sick sibling's shoulder and working it down, wrestling his brother's arm out of the sleeve with a firm grip that made Hiro wince, Tadashi understood why he had been so reluctant. "Hiro," he murmured in shock, "What- who did this?"

The contusion wrapped thickly around his little brother's gangly arm in the distinct shape of meaty fingers with angry, red epicenters. The deepest color of blue and purple emerged from the broken capillaries and without needing to touch it, Tadashi knew the flesh would be rock solid.

He'd seen a bruise like this once before in his life from a friend who had grown up training horses. One of the new mares had kicked her in the leg while she was trying to saddle her. The blow had been so vicious the trainer had been thrown back against the bars surrounding the animal's temporary stall. Moments after the wound had been inflicted it began to turn purple and by the end of the hour it looked very much like what Hiro sported right now.

Knowing that he'd lost the battle his little brother slumped with defeat.

"Hiro," Tadashi swallowed, "_Who did this?_" Rage swelled within the gentle robtisist at the thought that someone had been abusing his little brother at SFIT and he could feel the solid intensity in his voice stuck in his throat like a rock.

He felt ready to rip the information out of Hiro and go gallivanting off to show this man what it felt like to get slapped around by a _black belt _but before he could continue Baymax once again spoke up.

"Tadashi, Hiro's body temperature has risen to 102.3 degrees Fahrenheit," he said and then proceeded to scan his creator, "and your heart rate has risen. My scans indicate that you are experiencing anger, perhaps it would be wise if you sat down before you accidentally cause damage."

Swallowing, he glanced at Hiro- who seemed more tired than ever as he gazed at his brother with half-lidded, unfocused eyes.

"No," he said, "That's okay, thanks Baymax." He stood back to give his little brother some room and ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. "Are you ok, Hiro?"

"Yeh," came the quiet, raspy reply. Shamed, Tadashi bowed his head in apology and tried to meet the little one's eyes.

"Hey, listen to me," Hiro looked up at him, body vibrating and expression miserable, "It's gunna be okay, we'll fix this. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." Tadashi smiled reassuringly at his brother, waiting until it was hesitantly returned before he grabbed the tube and uncapped it. "For now, let's just get you fixed up."

"Okay," Hiro replied, struggling to pull himself up as he swayed and shivered.

"You are dizzy," Baymax commented and reached out to steady him.

Laughing tiredly he nodded carefully, "No kidding."

Tadashi smiled and squeezed the tube, filling his palm with a blob of the cream before rubbing his hands together and setting to work. As he'd expected the flesh was hard and hot to the touch. Hiro grimaced and clenched his teeth, trying not to make any sounds as his brother gently worked the cream into the skin.

Neither of them were looking forward to the stormy weekend ahead of them…

* * *

_*If you follow my tumblr account you are already aware of my request to see this drawn. ;_; I need this so badly but I just know I'll never get to see it. If I wasn't so lazy I'd draw it myself, guuuuuhhhh, Disney whyyyyyyyy._

_As usual, if you liked, leave me an O, if you hated, leave me an X._

_Cheers!_


	5. Arashi

_A.N.- Mrs. Hayashi, what are you doing in this story? You don't belong here, go back to _Malignant Butterfly Infestations _by the lovely _ketren!

_To ketren- If you are indeed reading this story I give you a 1,000 apologies for accidentally stealing off with your character. I was reading your story before I published this one and in my drowsiness my brain read the need to have an old lady from the film (Mrs. Matsuda) and unintentionally reflected your character in without either of our permission. I've gone through and fixed the mistake now though. Once again, I am so sorry!_

* * *

-Chapter 5-

\- 嵐 –

-Arashi-

* * *

_[10:48 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

He couldn't believe it.

Tadashi Hamada honestly could not comprehend what was happening in this moment even for the life of him.

"-and he has this as well; there are 36 problems in this pamphlet. I want him to finish _a_ through _h _of each. Please remind him that he has to _show his work!_" Hiro's calculous teacher, Mr. Shinbaught, slapped the folded piece of paper against his palm in emphasis, not seeming to notice the bewilderment on Tadashi's face, "I know that he understands the material front and back but I cannot accept the work if he does not write down his thought process."

Somewhere around half an hour ago he and Wasabi had dropped Hiro- who was totally, 100% passed-the-fuck-out -off at the café, leaving the poor teen curled up in bed with Baymax as his supervisor. Needing to come back to the school and get his moped anyway, Tadashi had decided to pick up homework for himself and his brother before heading home. All his teachers understood his situation and were more than happy to not only give him the work he was expected to complete over the weekend but also recommended other material he could go over that would help fill in the blanks that he would miss from the class.

Hiro's teachers were startlingly less sympathetic.

"I know it's a lot, have you got all that? Do you need me to write it down?"

Ahah, so his little brother's calculous teacher _was _paying attention to his observer's dismay.

"Excuse me, Mr. Shinbaught, you did hear me when I told you my little brother is sick, right?" Tadashi asked as kindly as could.

The blonde European smiled and nodded his head, "I did- you said he has a cold, right?"

He nodded but wasn't given the chance to add more before the professor was continuing, "As you might recall, this being your 3rd year here and all, introductory classes at SFIT are not meant to be playful. I want to make sure that Hiro will be prepared for what future classes have in store for him and that means I need to push him. There are habits he still needs to develop that- while menial now- are going to help him greatly in the future." Tadashi could feel himself growing frustrated with this man's unrealistic expectations.

Yes, he had been attending SFIT for three years now.

Yes, his introductory classes had been rigorous.

Yes, his teachers had challenged him to work harder.

_No_, they hadn't been _medieval._

He'd begun to notice a developing pattern in Hiro's professors; they all thought that because he'd only been in highschool for two years he'd missed some kind of valuable information. Sure, there were varying levels of respect for him, but really none of his teachers had witnessed the showcase so they only knew of Hiro's amazing accomplishments by word of mouth and paperwork.

And most scientists needed a little more than that.

The only teacher that Tadashi found he'd liked at the end of the day was Hiro's physics teacher, Mr. Senft. Upon hearing that his best student had fallen ill the man immediately began spouting off recommended material- wanting Hiro to be ready for a midterm that he would have to tackle in the coming week. But every time he spoke, much to Tadashi's amusement, he'd cut himself off with; "Oh, no, he already knows that one."

Finally the man threw up his arms in defeat and said, "Well, with a kid as bright as him what can go wrong?"

Tadashi decided not to answer that question.

"He's as prepared as he needs to be for his test. Hiro's homework from me this weekend is to rest that big brain of his and take it easy," the lanky man has smiled.

Thanking the ginger he'd begun to head to the door before he was called back, "Oh, and Tadashi? Please tell him I read over his recent report on quantum mechanics of the 21st century and I've concluded that his theories are utterly mischievous." Then he grinned widely, "I'd like to see them tested sometime!"

A broad smile had leapt over his face at that and, with a promise to do just that, Tadashi had left the lab.

Now, on a moped that weighed more than twice itself in homework, the eldest Hamada putt-putted his way home. The enormity of Hiro's schedule kept him from gathering _everything _as his otoutou's evening professor's hadn't yet come to the school and with the concrete weather today Tadashi doubted they'd even make it off the main road.

And he found that he was perfectly okay with that.

It made sense now why Hiro was having such a difficult time getting home before 11 and Tadashi regretted ever thinking that his little brother had been out goofing off bot fighting instead of working hard.

Hiro hardly had time to eat, let alone play around.

Pulling his helmet a little further over his head to guard against the falling rain, Tadashi cursed his luck and sped along over slick streets. Winds were picking up, carrying cloud cover that was only getting thicker. Reports said that by midnight tonight it should start to snow and two hours thereafter they were supposed to get one helluva blizzard. Until then the citizens of San Fransokyo would just have to live in a mini-typhoon.

Already things were pretty bad and by the time he rolled up to the café he needed to walk his putt-putt to its parking spot because the enormity of the puddle-turned-lake on the side of the street threatened to hydroplane.

Shuddering, he pulled free both his and his brother's bags from the compartment at the back of the moped before stumbling inside like a waterlogged rodent.

"Oh my gosh- Tadashi?!" he heard his aunt exclaim and he looked up in time to see her come running towards him. She grabbed a towel from the counter as she passed; flipping off her nephew's hat she immediately began scrubbing his head dry.

"Ou, look," a wrinkled old woman dressed in vibrant greens and purples began from her seat beside the door, "Son, you look like a waterlogged cat!"

Laughing and pulling himself free of his boisterous, fussy Aunt, Tadashi addressed their store's most famous regular, "I know, Mrs. Matsuda, I know."

"Honestly, you're going to get yourself as sick as Hiro if you don't go upstairs and warm up right now!" Cass reprimanded, putting her hands on her hips as Tadashi did what he could to dry himself with what she had given him.

"Oh no, another one bites the dust?" Mrs. Matsuda asked, jerking her head away from her chamomile tea. Eyes drawn to the peacock feather swinging about the hat on her head, the eldest Hamada grimaced.

Before he could reply his aunt unleashed a worried sigh, glancing around the store in search of any patrons that needed assistance. "Even after I told him to be careful with all that studying," she muttered.

The gnarly old lady gave a sympathetic smile and reached up to pat Aunt Cass's hand, "I'll whip up some soup for him and send it over after this _blasted _weather passes us."

"Oh, Mrs. Matsuda you don-"

"Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do, Missy!"

Chuckling, Tadashi slipped between tables and headed to the back of the café where their family's personal home lay in wait.

"Thank you, Mrs. Matsuda, I'll let Hiro know when he wakes up," he called over his shoulder. The friendly woman lifted a weathered hand in goodbye and, with one more returning smile, Tadashi bounded up the stairs to deposit his loads and take a shower.

* * *

_[12:03 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Hiro was fast asleep when Tadashi entered the shower and he was fast asleep when he left the shower.

Baymax insisted that his little brother's temperature had stayed roughly the same over the course of the last few hours and his creator believed him even as he stuck a thermometer in Hiro's ear. Tadashi was quite upset to learn from his med-bot that Hiro had lost a total of 2 pounds over the course of the last three days but no matter what he tried his little brother refused to wake up.

* * *

_[2:33 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

The rain outside was drumming against the roof in a soothing fashion, streaming down the windows and casting shadows across all that lay on the other side. The café had begun to grow quiet downstairs as the patrons decided it was time to swim home before things got much worse.

Sitting at his desk with his work strewn about and his cap hung over a nearby lamp, Tadashi found himself compulsively looking up to check on his little brother every so often. At his bedside Baymax loomed over him, regulating Hiro's heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, hormone levels, and every other vital across his belly as per Tadashi's request.

He might be more intelligent when it came to robotic work but that didn't mean he couldn't understand medicine to some degree. He had, after all, programmed Baymax himself.

Stuck on a particularly difficult problem Tadashi swiveled around for the hundredth time to eye his little brother. There he lay, just as he had five minutes before, desperately trying to sweat out his fever. Bundled up underneath his nest of blankets with a cold compress pressed against his forehead Hiro looked absolutely miserable. Every so often a weak, wet sounding cough would shudder through him and make his aniki wince.

For several moments Tadashi watched his little brother, eyes tracing the shadow of raindrops trailing down the window and, consequently, reflected across his younger brother's pale face as it lay just beyond the pane. The room was almost so dark that Tadashi had to turn on his desk light to see and it gave the scene his brother lay in a clouded, gray, somber feel to it.

For a moment his heart stopped.

_He's not breathing, shi- Hiro?!_

Then his brother took a deep breath, shifting slightly under whispering blankets, and sputtered out a cough. Tadashi took a deep breath and relaxed into his chair.

He moved to Hiro's desk after that.

* * *

_[4:14 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Aunt Cass- after bringing her boys some tea and cookies- explained that she would be closing the café early today. "Probably at around 6-o'-clock," she told him.

She'd already stocked up on everything they would need to wait out the storm for the next few days and Tadashi was grateful that she had- sort of because it meant that he wouldn't have to do it.

She'd glanced worriedly at Hiro a few times while she told Tadashi not to use his computer for anything important for a while. They were expecting the power to blow in a few hours.

As his aunt returned back to the café to continue attending to her sparse patrons, Tadashi got up to exchange Hiro's warm ice pack for a cool one.

* * *

_[5:02 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Baymax's battery ran out so he had to put him to bed for a recharge.

He scrawled a reminder in his notes to change out the lithium battery to the capacitors his brother had recommended those months ago.

Now he sat looming over his little brother and taking in every agonizing detail.

* * *

_[5:45 PM]_

_[Hiro]_

Hiro was neither sure of when he lost his grip on reality or how much time had passed since then when he came to. He knew only of the warmth thick around him, the coolness of his forehead, and the softness of blankets wrapped over and under his still-quaking body.

He _hated_ that dumb nebulizer inhalation sulfate solution gunk. He hated how it made him shiver like a leaf in a hurricane- though he was usually neither cold nor nervous. He hated how it made his heart thrum in his chest like the staccato rhythm of an orchestrated drum solo in _The Nutcracker. _He hated how weak it made him felt.

And being sick as a dog certainly didn't make the side effects any better.

Throughout his struggle to regain consciousness Hiro felt perspiration drip down his face and soak his surroundings. The world around him tilted back and forth like a ship and his ears failed to gather and interoperate the sounds around him accurately. His throat burned wildly every time he gathered up enough courage to swallow, stinging and complaining and otherwise acting like bits of sandpaper rubbing against each other at every other point.

And _oh _how his chest _ached. _His body hadn't been this weak and sore since that sumo wrestler had slammed into him after that bot fight a few months ago…

All in all, it felt remarkably like being stuck underwater.

Hiro couldn't resist the compulsive groan of dismay and hurt that warbled off his tongue when he shifted, a burst of pressure behind his eyes and within his chest informing him the wisdom of such a maneuver. Of course the sound only served to aggravate his throat and remind him of how dry it was. The prodigy instinctively tried to swallow but only succeeded in encouraging an itch in his throat to act up.

Then he started coughing.

And then he couldn't stop coughing.

He coughed so hard his entire body and the surface underneath jerked. He coughed so hard that his throat tore and his head detached from his neck. He coughed so hard that tears pricked his eyes and he didn't notice when the sheets were pulled back and strong arms lifted him up.

Something cold and hard pressed against his trembling lips, a hand cupping the back of his head tilting it as the object was pressed forwards. Hiro eagerly drank the water that pooled slowly into his mouth, easing his throat and taming his fit. Moments later the glass was pulled away and something solid slipped into the bed behind him, keeping him half vertical and alleviating his struggle for air somewhat.

"You doing okay, bud?" a familiar voice asked quietly.

Opening his eyes in a tired movement, Hiro wondered where the voice was coming from.

"Hiro?"

Where was this? The posters on the walls and the bits of scrap metal hanging around here and there seemed familiar but he couldn't quite place…

"Hey," the voice dropped to somewhere between a whisper and a mumble in his ear, "Can you hear me, kiddo?"

If his world wasn't already spinning Hiro would have noticed the rise and fall of the wall behind him, the way he was snuggled into the curve of something fleshy and warm.

He did, however, despite his delirium, notice the soft wisps of air that tumbled past his ear with each word spoken. Something suddenly clicked in his mind and he asked, "Tadashi?"

"Hehe," his elder brother laughed with a touch of relief in his voice, "I was beginning to wonder if I was talking to myself here."

Like his voice was a key that had unlocked the door to lucidity, Hiro opened his eyes the rest of the way and tilted his head back. He found Tadashi smiling down at him, both amused and worried by his little brother's confusion.

"What the-" Hiro mumbled, lifting a hand and running it down his face as though he could wipe away his exhaustion. "What time is it?" he rasped and fought a rising yawn.

Tadashi hummed thoughtfully, "Well, Aunt Cass just closed the shop so it looks like it's around 6:00."

"Wait, what?" sudden horror skipped through Hiro's heart.

"You were pretty out of it for a while there," his brother commented, "Heck, I managed to drop you off here, go back to the school, pick up both of our work, and come back here and you didn't even twitch the entire time!" Tadashi chose not to mention the magnitude of the amount Hiro had attained.

A distant, thunderous boom alerted Hiro to the worsening weather outside and he recalled warnings of a rolling storm coming through for the weekend.

He clamped his mouth shut in concern just before a different thunderous sound erupted from his stomach.

Blushing furiously, he set a hand over his traitorous belly as Tadashi chuckled behind him.

"Come on, Bonehead," he said and started to rise, "Aunt Cass is making you soup."

Hiro didn't argue and followed his brother wrapped in blankets.

* * *

_Sleepies for me._

_O if you liked, X is you hated._

_Cheers!_


	6. Akumu

_Dedicated to: _

_Nick Horst._

_You may have been as wobbly as a newborn Giraffe on your feet. _

_You may have stuttered as though you thought the whole world was watching you._

_But you made time for me when no-one else would._

_You put up with me like no-one else could._

_You were my friend and you always will be._

_I'll see you at the funeral, buddy._

_(I'm sorry that I never got to say goodbye.)_

_(Meet you on the other side, someday.)_

* * *

-Chapter 6-

\- 悪夢 -

-Akumu-

A little bit of medication and some soup really went a long ways, Hiro decided as he sat in his bed with an icepack draped over his skull. He wouldn't deny that he still felt like shit-on-fire but, in comparison to how things were a half hour ago, things really did seem better.

Enough so that he had begun the task of taking down his homework. He'd had to practically wrestle said work out from under Tadashi- who'd insisted that he could just get to it tomorrow.

He was right of course.

But Hiro had just gotten so used to working until he dropped he felt almost uncomfortable going to sleep any other way.

Besides, it's not like it would take long.

Now he sat in bed with his legs crossed underneath him scribbling away at his calculous homework. Really the most agonizing thing about it was having to write out his process. If it weren't for that he could finish this stuff in less than ten minutes.

"Hiro," Tadashi called from his half of the room.

"Hmm?"

"Stop."

Confused, Hiro looked up and met his big brother's eyes, "stop what?"

Tadashi looked downright incredulous and nodded his head at his brother's lap, "_that._"

Looking down, still writing out the work, and then back up at his elder it took him a moment to understand what had his sibling so put-out. Calculous at this level was not a difficult subject for Hiro and he was so acquainted with the problems that he didn't even have to put full brainpower into solving the equations. With half a mind on the work and the other half daydreaming about cool, inventive creations-to-come, Hiro hadn't noticed that he'd picked up speed.

Blinking slowly at the page he dropped his pencil and cracked his knuckles, yawning widely as he stretched. When a shock of pain rolled through him he had to resist the temptation to slap a hand against his aching throat, aware as he was that Tadashi was still watching him.

Geeze, his big brother could be a real mother-hen when he was like this…

"It's not hard, Tadashi," he rasped in explanation as his elder got up and strode to his half of the room. Hiro allowed him the chance to examine his work as he looked through the rest of the pile that he had gathered.

Sifting through biotech assignments, more calculous homework, Engineering 124, and mentally accounting for the half-online English, economics, and Universal Technological Advancements 201 classes he felt himself mentally deflate.

When Tadashi took a little too long examining the page before him, Hiro reached up and snatched the pamphlet from under his nose.

"Let me finish," he muttered before continuing with his work. In the pause that followed his statement, Hiro thought for sure that his brother had wandered back to his desk. He was startled out of his thoughts when a large hand fell onto his head and gently ruffled his hair. "H-hey, what-?!"

Tadashi laughed, a big, bright smile stretching from ear to ear as he said, "I can't believe I'd forgotten how much smarter than me you are, Hiro! This is amazing!"

Blinking in shock, thoughts still muddled with fever, the younger missed a moment to crow. Instead he just looked at his brother, unsure of how to react, and hummed dumbly. That seemed to flip Tadashi's big-brother switch because he leant down and looked deeply into his sibling's eyes.

"Are you really feeling well enough to be working on this?" he asked for the hundredth time, searching the glassy film of sickness in his brother's brown irises. Hiro opened his mouth to reply but his brother quickly and sternly cut him off, "and don't you dare say that you're fine."

Too tired to continue this fight with him any longer, Hiro shrugged, "I'll take a nap or something when I'm done with my engineering stuff then."

Seeming to accept this bargain, Tadashi nodded and stood back. He returned to his desk across the room while his brother once again picked up his calculous homework. Time after that was a blur that whizzed by like an uncontrollable freight train. Hiro knew only of what was in front of him and what was scuttling through his brain. Occasionally he'd catch the howl of the wind, the pound of the rain, the strike of lightening, and boom of distant thunder but even then the sounds came to him distilled.

In the midst of his engineering assignment he must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes it was to find his big brother gently putting his books away and cleaning up the bed.

His chest ached and his thoughts rolled along slowly under a thick fog as he observed the elder through half-lidded eyes.

_I need to think of something, _he told himself deliriously, furrowing his brow, _what is it? What should I think of? Something must…_

"Tada-nii," he mumbled before he could even consider how he'd sound.

As would be expected of someone having just heard a name long unused, Tadashi froze. Slowly, like he was balancing something on his head, he pivoted on his heel until he was facing his younger brother. Hiro blinked but it must have been a pretty long blink because when his long lashes parted it was to find his sibling sitting on the bed beside him.

"Sorry," he rasped quietly, exuding exhaustion as he gazed into his big brother's tawny eyes.

"For what?" Tadashi asked after a moment, laying a palm across Hiro's forehead. Whilst his brother attempted to take his temperature, the younger absently rubbed his aching chest. It was a good question- one that he had no clue how to answer.

He just felt like he was letting his big brother down somehow. Hiro had no idea what it might be but he was so _sure _that he was being cruel to his aniki. He flinched when a cold, plastic material pushed its way into his ear and tried to move away. But his big brother just set a hand along the side of his head and held him still until the object beeped.

"Mus' be delireeous," he whispered, half to himself and half to Tadashi, "I dun' know." It was getting harder to keep his eyes open but he thought he heard his brother mention visiting the hospital tomorrow if his fever didn't go down tonight. He wondered if he'd wind up in the same emergency room that Callaghan was at.

"San Fransokyo Overlake Emergency Center is the closest place, so I bet you would."

Oh. That would be a bit off-putting. At least he wouldn't be in the same ward- unless… was he on fire right now?

"Hiro, you're not on fire. And what happened, I thought you liked Professor Callaghan?"

The pencil in his hand disappeared and the pressure at his bedside shifted. There was a clicking sound to the left of the bed, where his nightstand could be located, then the presence beside him settled.

Callaghan, though, was a much stranger fellow than he'd seemed on paper. In the visits he had made with Tadashi to check up on the healing professor, Hiro had begun noticing a few peculiarities about him. When he looked at Hiro he had this odd glimmer in his eye that he recognized from particularly nasty folk at bot fights. They were the liars, the cheaters, the murders, and- he shuddered- sometimes even the pedophiles. While Robert Callaghan was void of _that _kind of intensity he certainly struck a few red flags in the street-adapted youth's brain.

Hiro Hamada could appreciate the way the man tried to challenge him and unlike most of his current professors, Callaghan was actually capable of pushing him. But some of the questions he asked were off-putting and the way he asked them- trying just a little too hard to be casual- made Hiro believe that he was up to something.

Bot fighting had taught him a plethora of important details and what kind of things he needed to watch out for.

His instincts told him to watch out for his idol; Robert Callaghan.

It's nothing, though.

"Okay, well then Bonehead, I'm going to assume all that was fever-induced-delirium."

Hiro hummed a little as the pillows behind him shifted around and calloused hands grasped his shoulders. He was gently pulled down until he lay across the bed, head thumping limply against the cushions beneath it. The covers fell around him and tightened comfortably, a warm palm lingering on his head before the hand-hot icepack was removed. Then the thud of fading footsteps announced his brother's retreat.

Hiro was out before Tadashi could return with a fresh face of worry and another cold compress.

* * *

_[1:56 AM]_

_[Unidentified Intruder]_

The youngest Hamada's lab was dark and cold but the cloaked figure didn't seem to notice it. Shambling through the shadows, guided by a beam of light that cut through the thickness of the gloom, he searched the prepubescent's work space. Curdles of snow hung off the fabric of his black trench coat, occasionally tumbling from his back and landing on the concrete below with a faint _piff. _

_Where is it? _He thought furiously, digging around the cluttered workspace. Who would have imagined that having a dirty, unorganized lab would be such a good deterrent against thieves? Growling behind the unfinished mask he restrained the urge to flip something in his frustration.

He didn't have enough _time _for this! They'd be looking for him soon and then what would he do?

A soft twinge of pain rattled up his side but he forced himself to ignore it and kept looking. He turned over books, pieces of metal, papers, comics, Styrofoam cups, but he still couldn't find what he was looking for.

In comparison to the laboratories that he was used to the space this student worked in was _tiny. _And yet, finding one little thing was next to impossible!

Okay, so, maybe more than one little thing.

But all he had to do was find one piece and then he would be set. And the part that he was looking for also happened to be the biggest piece.

Grunting with irritation he began looking under surfaces.

He checked under the kid's desk, chair, 3D printer, the other desk, the couch, the TV. He looked in drawers, cabinets, and shelves and 15 minutes later he still had nothing.

It wasn't until he heard a familiar scream from above that he felt truly compelled to pull out his last resort. Gloved fingers fiddling with his white mask he pressed a small button and then gazed around the room.

He analyzed the shape of the walls through the construction plan he'd stolen until he found a space that _should _be open. Turning the view off, he looked around and found, indeed, the 4x6 foot space was concealed by an apparently fake wall.

Obscured by the mask, a triumphant grin poured ravenously across his face.

_There._

* * *

_[2:04 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

Hiro Hamada was having a dream. A very strange dream caught somewhere between emulating nightmare and nothing emotionally stimulating at all.

He was running up a sunny hill as steep and tall as the Antarctic glaciers.

It was so high up and all he wanted to do was stop forever but he couldn't.

His lungs clamped shut on him and he wheezed like he'd never done in his life. Others ran past him easily, sliding up the hillside as if it was the most natural thing they'd ever done. Hiro felt like a child racing Olympians but was too exhausted to feel shamed by his performance. Every breath he took was like a punch to the gut and he hunched forwards, feet sliding across the ice.

Hiro staggered a few more unsteady steps before his quivering legs gave out on him and he tumbled to the ground. Expecting to slip down the sharp angle of the hill he reached out and grasped icy tufts of grass with his fingers, burrowing his warm face into the chill and thanking whatever higher deity existed that he had found a moment's pause to rest.

Shoulders jerking, stomach convulsing, chest aching, he felt anchored by an exhaustion that he couldn't ease any more than he'd already attempted. It wasn't until the glacier/hill began to tilt and flames erupted from the jerking cracks that he felt spurred to move on.

He was all alone now in his own private inferno, racing against time in an effort to reach the top before he was burned alive. Somehow he knew this was supposed to be the easy part of the race- so easy that the supporters hadn't felt the need to describe it to the competitors. Wincing and throwing his head back Hiro continued his staggering gait until he heard a familiar voice urging him forward.

"Come on, Hiro!" Tadashi called, standing off to the side of the glacier with flames lapping at his ankles. "Someone has to do it!"

And that was when his bizarre dream became a nightmare.

True terror welled up inside the young teen as he met his brother's frantic eyes. That gentle face was contorted into panic and insistence, begging Hiro to let him go into the inferno and save something important to both of them.

He tried to tell his brother "no". He tried to gasp out a refusal. He _tried_ to tell him that he needed to stay on the side.

But Tadashi couldn't hear him.

Blinking, Hiro found himself wrapped around his big brother's arm desperately trying to prevent him from jumping over the side of a cliff. The race didn't matter anymore, nothing did. All he cared about was his big brother's safety.

He pulled and yanked on Tadashi's arm but he was so weak that even the winds were enough to push him away.

"Someone has to do it," his brother repeated, looking into Hiro's big brown, terrified eyes before yanking out of his trembling grip and throwing himself over the edge and into the inferno below.

"Tadashi!" the scream thrust itself from his throat as though with a mind of its own and suddenly thick, strong arms were wrestling with him. "No," he panted breathlessly, pushing weakly against the person trying to hold him back as he wildly searched the new darkness and shadowed litter of objects around him, "no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Hiro?! Tadashi?!" a feminine voice shouted into the din. His throat suddenly constricted and a brutal convulsion rippled through his small frame. A terrible coughing so thorough and vicious it made his entire body jerk overcame him and he was pulled towards the edge of the bed. Someone patted his back as he hacked up phlegm that was as much blood as it was infection. There were voices above him competing with a howling monster just outside the window, throwing itself against the pane and screaming angrily.

He didn't know how long the fit lasted for.

He didn't know anything anymore.

All he knew was that he needed to breathe _right now _and he couldn't.

There was nothing on his face to restrict him. There was nothing around his throat to cut him off. He couldn't just start breathing through his nose and CPR wouldn't do him any good either.

His lungs pleaded for air. His head swam and his body was out of his control. Hiro didn't have the energy to thrash anymore, simply going limp as a rag doll in some else's arms. Jaw wide open, tongue pressed against the floor of his mouth, head tilted back, Hiro's chest fought to rise and fall. It was like he was drowning but there was nothing he could do.

_His own body was going to suffocate him._

"Baymax, I need that nebulizer _right fucking now,_" a voice dripping with the fragrance of panic cut through his quaking, choking, exhausted frame and suddenly something was pressed around his mouth and nose. Hiro hardly registered the thud of footsteps moving up and down the stairs, the hum of a machine activating, or the howling winds anymore.

He had fistfuls of some soft fabric grasped in his hands like he thought the effort might help him breath better. Periodically his grip would wane then tighten as he fought against his depleting energy reserves, panicked tears threatening to fall from his eyes. The tendons in his young neck bulged and his mouth still hung open, moving with every breath taken. The cool, sharp tang of the inhalation solution he'd grown familiar with as a kid filled his mouth but he didn't have the energy to suck it in any better than he currently was. His chest continued its frantic rise and fall motion even despite the sharp pain thrumming against his lungs and sternum.

As the emergency medication began its work, Hiro's rapid gasping grew noticeably quieter and he began to process his surroundings.

The first thing he realized was how much everything hurt. If it could take the pain away Hiro would have been willing to tear out his throat with his bare hands. Mucus stuck against the walls of his esophagus like glue, stinging, and burning in emulation of the briquettes you found at the bottom of a fire- the ones most favorable to cooking something slowly from the inside out. Like civilians trying to get water from a depleted aquifer he had no more energy left to give yet couldn't stop asking for more. Right now he didn't think he even had the strength to tremble.

But, as though something sought to truly and honestly kill him, Hiro felt tears streaming down his face. Shock, panic, and pain had caught up with him and his young mind just couldn't handle it despite its ingenuity. His shuddering gasps only made the shameful behavior more obvious and in a pathetic last ditch effort to preserve whatever remained of his pride, Hiro buried his face into the warm fabric he clutched in his fists.

"Sshhh," a familiar voice hushed him, fingers carding through his hair, "It's okay. It's okay, I've got you, shhh." He was gently rocked back and forth, soothing words whispered above him, "It's okay, Hiro, I've got you, it's alright. Just keep breathing, okay? I've got you, I'm right here. Sssshhh."

He still wasn't breathing properly when the soft approach of footsteps alerted him to an additional presence.

"How is he?" Aunt Cass asked, her voice hushed in a mindful whisper as she sat on the bed.

"A little better," said the voice from before- the one he now recognized as Tadashi's, "Baymax and I have him on a full dose, 6mL, of the albuterol sulfate inhalation solution, 0.083%. He's still got 54 minutes until he's done with it and I'm not sure how much longer he'll be conscious- if he isn't right now."

A light grunt from Hiro supported an affirmation that, 'yes', he was still (kind of) awake.

In comparison to Tadashi's, Aunt Cass's hand was much smaller and thinner. It was the softness of her touch- as smooth as the pastries she cooked- against the flesh of his back that made him realize he was missing his shirt.

She moved her hand in soothing circular motions and hummed for a few minutes before speaking as gently as he'd ever heard her, "Hiro, honey, are you feeling any better?" He managed to make a small nod, head still buried in what he assumed was Tadashi's shirt if the smell of mints and fabric softener were anything to go by. There was a scraping sound and her weight shifted beside him.

"Baymax, what is Hiro's temperature?" Tadashi whispered. Hiro could feel the vibration of his brother's throat against the top of his head and clenched his jaw suddenly to keep from yawning. He was still winding down from his attack but his body had already thrown itself over the cusp of what it was capable of and now hovered impossibly over a black abyss.

"Hiro's temperature has-" the bot began at his usual level of volume before he was shushed by both Hamadas.

"It's okay, buddy, just show me."

There was a beeping sound and Aunt Cass shifted beside him, presumably to get a better look at the readings. He wasn't sure what his temperature might be but whatever it was it must not have been good because there was a small sound of disapproval from his aunt.

"We need to take him to the emergency room," she said quietly, seeming to think that Hiro couldn't hear her.

"I know," Tadashi's voice held a high-note of despair, "but we won't make it to the hospital in this weather."

The moment of deliberation between the two of them was long and Hiro had almost fallen asleep before Aunt Cass spoke again, "We'll just have to do the best we can for now." With a tired-sounding yawn she stood up and continued, "I'm going to run the bath with cold water and make a few calls to the emergency room, see if they have any trucks that could get to us tomorrow when the winds die a little. Is Baymax loaded with information that could help us on this?"

An up and down movement above him foretold of Tadashi's agreeing nod, "He can help us make a better diagnosis, at least." Another gesture told him that his big brother was now looking down at him;

"I don't think this is just a cold, anymore."


	7. Furo

_This chapter upped the rating from K+ to T. Just so you are aware. (Probably should have been T anyway, to be honest.)_

_Before anyone gets excited let me just say, **very adamantly: This is not incest.**_ _There will never even be romance in this story so please do not expect it. _

* * *

-Chapter 7-

\- 風呂 –

\- Furo -

* * *

Tadashi watched the thin needle push into Hiro's skin, tucking under his flesh until it poked into the vein located at the crook of his right arm. His little brother's breath hitched and he shifted in his arms. Instinctively tightening his grip around him, Tadashi made a shushing sound and watched his sibling's blood be pulled into the polymer tubing. It was a dark purplish color as it crawled through the cables and disappeared into Baymax's body where it was then processed and scanned. Somehow the sight of his little brother's blood seemed unique to him, like the very color of it was distinctly _Hiro._

His eyes flickered over to his other arm and examined the blooming bruise. Swallowing his fluttering rage, Tadashi took in the deep violets, blues, and angry red epicenter with just the smallest sensations of approval. The arnica cream was doing its job of bringing the bruise out and although it made the wound look way worse it certainly meant that Hiro would be healing much faster.

Downstairs he could hear his aunt talking with a servicer from the nearby emergency room, discussing roads, vehicles, and chain sizes that might make it possible for an ambulance to get to them. He couldn't be sure but he thought he caught her threatening the operator at one point, saying that if they didn't try to work this out with her _right now _she was going to have her nephew invent something that could get them there.

There were several soft beeping sounds that came from his Baymax as Hiro's blood slowly moved into him but Tadashi knew that it would at least be an hour before the results came back so he didn't bother with asking for them.

Instead he lowered his head and buried his nose into Hiro's fluffy hair, sighing deeply as he once again tightened his grip. It felt dramatic to say but in the moments he'd held him against his chest just _watching_ him suffocate Tadashi Hamada had truly felt like he was going to lose his precious baby brother.

He'd never seen Hiro so desperate before. The paleness of his face, the slickness of sweat on his brow, the tint of blue to his tight lips, the wriggling of the tendons in his throat as he _fought _against himself just to get a full breath of air only to break out into a violent fit of coughing once he had- these were the things that would make him shudder and hold Hiro tightly at what might feel like the most random of times in future years.

Right now he just begged the universe that he wouldn't have to hold his little brother in a tiny urn during those times; that he wouldn't have to pass small, charred bones around in chopsticks, garbed in black…

The eldest sibling knew for a fact that he would remember the look of exhausted terror fading from his brother's eyes for the rest of his life. He'd never forget the feeling of his fists clutching him so tightly that his whitened knuckles popped several times only to suddenly, terrifyingly, loosen up and almost fall away periodically. If for some reason he managed to forget then the strained, pulled, and stretched fabric of his nightshirt would surely be kind enough to remind him.

From the bathroom he could make out the sound of pouring water filling up the tub, echoing off the linoleum and reaching his ears from this distance. Hiro would most definitely not enjoy his upcoming bath and he would like it even less when Tadashi refused to leave his side. Of course, with almost 40 minutes still remaining of his time with the nebulizer Baymax would have to be there as well. But Tadashi found that he wouldn't mind so much if his little brother snarled and thrashed his way through the uncomfortable event.

He wouldn't mind at all.

Swallowing thickly he tightened his hold on Hiro's thin shoulders, the ones that seemed so much bonier than he knew they should, and compulsively nuzzled his head. Taking a deep breath he basked in the complete presence of his brother in his arms. The mask on his face poked into his chest but he didn't care in the slightest. Hiro smelled so strangely of ocean salt and smoke yet his hair was soft, clean, and fluffy. A shaky smile perked his lips at the soft sounds that rumbled out of his little brother's throat. He recognized them as a mix between quiet snores and lingering wheezes.

"You sound like a kitten, bonehead," he whispered with a tiny underlying chuckle.

"I will need you to straighten him out so I can perform an x-ray," Baymax stated suddenly. Tadashi looked up, surprised that the bot had elected to lower the setting of his vocal emitter's volume on his own. The vinyl robot cocked his head curiously and made a small motion that indicated a scan. "Tadashi," he began, "your blood pressure has risen and your heartrate has: increased. I detect elevated production of the hormones; Adrenaline, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine. Diagnosis: you are experiencing stress." He smiled and lifted his head to take in the diagram that had bloomed across the lower part of the robot's chest, developing just below Hiro's own statistics, "Might I suggest that you take a moment to rest?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry about me, Baymax. I'll be fine." Peeling himself away from Hiro's clutches he very gently set about to splaying his little brother over the sheets. He tossed the gray night shirt he'd sweated through before Tadashi had torn it off to get a better look at his convulsing chest. One hand under Hiro's head, the other under the crook of his knees, he shuffled forwards. Using his right leg to keep him propped up Tadashi straightened the younger's legs out across the sheets before lowering his shoulders as well. His head was a deadweight in the elder's hand that rolled out of his palm when it was set against the pillow.

With his eyes closed and a slight tightness to his face, breathing fogging up the plastic breathing mask that was a little too large for him, Tadashi saw a strange resemblance to a medical cadaver doll in his younger brother.

Disturbed he moved back and told Baymax it was okay for him to stop drawing Hiro's blood now. The other stopped and his creator gently slipped the needle out of his patient's arm.

"Alright," he said and navigated himself away from the bed so Baymax could continue his examination with an X-ray, "You're good to go. I'm going to check on the bath." While his robotics project looked after Hiro Tadashi made progress towards the bathroom. He could hardly hear the buzzing from the other room when he knelt down beside the tub and dipped a hand into the water. While not freezing the temperature was enough to cast a shiver down his spine. By now the bath was almost full so he reached over and set the tips of his fingers on the touch pad built into the wall. He held them against the glass and watched as the power of the water jetting from the faucet tapered off into a more casual dribble. Then, moving his index and middle finger over the bars shaded with varying degrees of red, he turned down the heat. It was a battle to keep himself from turning it _up _instead, knowing how uncomfortable the water would make his already trembling little brother and automatically wanting to alleviate that distress for him.

"Tadashi?" he heard his aunt whisper loudly from the other side of the bathroom wall behind the mirror. He hadn't caught the sound of her feet on the steps and flinched a bit with surprise.

"I'm in here!" he said, standing up and taking the two black and white towels off the curtain railing. Folding and setting them on the counter he turned to his aunt. "What's the news?"

Coming to stand in the threshold of the door, Aunt Cass hummed worriedly and turned to observe the miserable state of her youngest nephew, "They're going to borrow some chains from the police and put them on one of their biggest ambulances but they still won't be able to get to us until noon."

Tadashi bit his lip and likewise glanced out the door to get a look at his sibling. Baymax was running a green light across him and when he was finished he reached out and gently patted Hiro's head, palm lighting up with a cool, blue glow when Hiro leaned into the touch. A soft hum rumbled out of his throat and his onlookers both smiled lightly.

"For now they've said to try and get his temperature down, keep him on the nebulizer every hour and a half, make sure he gets plenty of water, and give him two pain pills every four to six hours. How's the bath coming along?" she expressed, turning her eyes on her oldest nephew.

"It's just about ready," he told her tiredly, "When Baymax is finished scanning Hiro, I'll get him ready for it."

Commiseration and warmth suddenly welled up in Aunt Cass's eyes, "You've grown up to be such a good man, Tadashi," she commented. Surprised, he ripped his gaze away from his brother and felt his cheeks warm with a blush, his eyes widening.

"U-uh, th-" he began, totally unprepared for the compliment.

But his aunt just smiled and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. His surprise melted away as he leaned into her touch and reciprocated the movement. When they parted she grabbed his arms and looked deeply, intently, into his eyes.

A ferociousness he'd seen in her only when he and/or Hiro had gotten into trouble in the past lit up her expression when she started, "I love you, Tadashi. I love both of you more than you could imagine." Her grip on his arms tightened, as though she thought he might try to slip away, "If I have to go to heaven or hell to fetch either of my boys- _damn straight_, you better _know _that I will." She shook her head in emphasis, expression penetrating with honesty, "I'm not going to give up him," she promised.

His aunt was bubbly and spastic on a good day but she rarely showed this kind of intensity. It was only ever in situations like this that he saw such a protective side of her.

With as much genuine gratitude as he could muster he thanked her, shoulders relaxing, and a true smile lifting his face. She returned the smile and turned to walk away but he stopped her, "Really, Aunt Cass, _Thank you._"

She patted his arm, "I will always be here for you two." After a momentary pause to let her words sink in she straightened, "Now, enough melancholy-" she put her palms together, "I'm going to go mix something up for Hiro to drink, I'll bet he needs something for that throat. I'm also going to expect a bunch of shouting and thrashing from our little fire-cracker once you put him in there so if you need me give me a holler, got it?"

He nodded and let her leave. As she thudded softly down the steps he turned to his baby brother and rolled up his sleeves, a look on his face like he was a soldier going to war.

"Okay, Otouto," he said, "Here we go."

* * *

_[2:31 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

Something yanked at his legs, slipping his pajama pants off his hips and steadily downwards. Uncomfortable, he wiggled lethargically and reached out to tug his pants back up but was stopped by a firm grip.

"No, no, Otouto," he heard Tadashi disapprove. He hadn't heard his brother call him by that name for such a long time he almost forgot what it meant. Still not fully conscious he grunted and yanked his feet away when he felt something grab at his toes, effectively pulling his own socks off. Balling himself up in an effort to protect what clothing remained and pressing a peculiar obstruction on his face against his flesh, he heard a soft sigh.

"Is my assistance required?" Baymax asked helpfully from his left.

"I don't need it just yet, but thanks, bud. For now just keep regulating his vitals for me and tell me if anything happens," Tadashi's voice rose in volume as it neared and the bed sloped when his weight was added to the frame. Hiro was just noticing the trembles that coursed through his body, the somewhat salty tang of a nostalgic, gaseous medication, when his brain what hit by a train wreck of memories.

His throat hurt.

His chest ached.

His head spun.

He was cold and hot and _Tadashi was trying to take off his pants?!_

With a fierceness his condition shouldn't of left him with he kicked out with his legs, landing a solid blow in the middle of his big brother's chest and another along his cheek. Grunting, Tadashi rolled off the hits and grasped the elastic waist band of his brother's pajama pants.

"Gack," he grunted when Hiro attempted to kick him again, "Hiro, knock it off!" Though the teen tried valiantly he was still incredibly weak and ended his battle with both feet pressed hard against Tadashi's chest, trying to keep him at bay. Tadashi hadn't earned his black belt by lazing about, however, and in a swift movement rolled away from Hiro's legs and yanked his pants down.

"Stoooop," the effort was already draining him and with an internal whine the youngest Hamada tried to fight off the oncoming coma that threatened to take him, "raaapee, incessssstttuuuhhhh," he grumbled as loudly as he could.

Tadashi gathered him in his arms with a chuckle, "That's not gunna work this time, little brother," heading off in some odd direction with a round of squeaking signifying Baymax's trailing presence. Though he really and truly tried, Hiro honestly couldn't persuade himself to wake up any more than he already was.

Never in his life had he been as exhausted as he was now and yet wanted so badly to stay awake.

What was happening to him?

In the distance he could make out the sound of water trickling from a faucet. Above him, Tadashi murmured something and he was deposited into warm, vinyl arms. Hiro felt completely engulfed in what some vague part of his mind thought was Baymax's grip. It was surprisingly gentle and snug, the sound of machinery hissing so softly only a mouse could hear it being as much a comfort to the robotics genius as a heartbeat.

And it was warm.

He snuggled closer, vinyl squeaking beneath him, and missed the absence of running water. An abrupt brightness made him flinch and scrunch up his nose with distaste.

_Bzzz._

_Click-ick._

"Hello, Hiro," Baymax greeted him and he realized suddenly that his eyes had opened just a tiny bit. He traced the fuzzy line of tubing that trailed out of the robot's body and ended in front of his mouth, struggling just to keep his eyes open.

That was when Tadashi filled his beyond-blurry-vision with a reassuring smile and a comforting hand, "There you are, bonehead."

Unable to turn his head, he glared at his big brother with a suspicious eye and got a little cozier in Baymax's arms.

_I'm staying here, _he was saying, letting his eyes close.

"I know, I know. Trust me, this won't be much fun for either of us." How odd it was that Tadashi could make his voice fade and then sharpen like that. Did he have some kind of modulator hooked up somewhere to distort the sounds?

"It's-…-weird, I get it-…-going to ha-…-take your underw-…-off now."

A low, weak groan of dismay buzzed out of his throat when his brother stole away his boxers but he was too far gone to feel a very high measure of concern for his sudden nakedness.

"O-..-ay Baymax, yo-…-lower him-…-to the tub-…-now."

He was sharply jerked back to consciousness by the sensation of water consuming him and in a moment of panic he thrashed. The wet sound of flesh against the bathtub, the splash of water, the protests of his brother, and the pressure on his chest only encouraged his fanatic pursuit towards escape.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" Tadashi cried, his arms wrapped around Hiro's soaking torso, "Easy, relax, Hiro! It's okay!"

Hiro then proceeded to try and climb up Tadashi's traitorous arms like a cat, yanking at his sleeves and hair and face and snarling aggressively.

"This behavior is detrimental to your health-"

"Not helping, Baymax!"

Garbled nonsense burbled out of Hiro's throat as he continued his desperate efforts for freedom until a firm pressure on his shoulders pushed him into the tub.

It was _cold, dammit! _

For a time he struggled under Tadashi's hands. It was only when his exhaustion got the better of him that he slumped and settled begrudgingly into the chill.

"_There,_" funny how Tadashi was the one panting now, "that's better, isn't it?"

A low, _very _irritated groan from Hiro announced his disproval. Tired, angry, and feeling violated beyond measure he forced his stinging eyes to open and gave his brother one of the iciest glares he'd received in a long time.

"O-o-obnox-noxious perv-v-verted idiot," he hissed shakily with a few measured coughs, curling into a ball under the water. But it came out softer and wheezier and raspier than he'd first intended.

Tadashi opened his mouth to say something but Baymax beat him to it; "Your body temperature is; elevated. Tadashi and I seek to lower it. It would be wise if you restrained from too much physical movement."

But Hiro only had glassy, half lidded, too-bright-eyes for his traitorous older brother. That was when a tired sigh flew past Tadashi's lips and he slumped against the side of the tub.

"Okay, Hiro, I get it," he tried not to yawn, "Would it make you feel better if I turned around or something?"

The littlest Hamada likewise slumped, forgetting about his breathing mask and almost dunking it in the water.

Seeing this Tadashi leapt up, "woah, woah, woah, wait, wait!"

"Phhbbtt," Hiro said, the water splashing and swaying up along the linoleum bed as his brother pulled him up. This time Tadashi did yawn, bringing his hands up to swipe across his face and drag water along his brow. He received little sympathy from his younger brother despite his obvious exhaustion.

"Alright, alright," Tadashi held up his hands, head tilted down little, and eyes closed, "I'm turning around, relax." It was just as he was about to do so that his lashes pulled back and he caught a glimpse of something that looked a little strange just under his brother's right arm. "Wait a minute," he started, confusion evident in his voice as he dipped a hand into the water, "what's that?"

Hiro's eyes had closed but the moment he heard Tadashi's voice he jerked and opened them. The warmth of his big brother's palm around his skinny arm, the narrowed gaze eyeing the strange marks just out of sight and distorted by the water had him scrambling back with wild eyes.

Above the both of them Baymax tilted his head, "My scans indicate that Hiro is experiencing; emotional distress. What seems to be the trouble, Hiro?"

But the youngest Hamada didn't have enough energy left in him to try formulating a reply. Instead he just scooted farther away from his big brother, a warning look in his tired gaze.

Concerned but knowing that, given the situation, it would be best to leave Hiro at least a little bit of privacy Tadashi forced himself to back off. He'd just take a look at it after his little brother had konked out later.

"Alright," he said and sat back, "I'll leave you alone for now." That said he turned around and leaned into the tub, resting his head against the lip and closing his eyes.

As he had been doing all night, Baymax performed yet another scan. He didn't say anything when he was finished, however, and the two brothers were left with the slow wakes of silence.

* * *

_If you liked, leave me an O. If you hated leave me an X._

_Cheers!_


	8. Byōin

-Chapter 8-

\- 病院 -

-Byōin-

* * *

A low groan wiggled its way out of his throat when he came to, shifting awkwardly about on what felt to be a very precarious position. The chair beneath him squeaked, pleather squelching loudly as he moved. Yawning he ran a hand down his face to wipe away the lingering remnants of sleep crusted around his eyes. As his grip moved from his head to the back of his neck where it massaged aching muscle, Tadashi rolled his shoulders and cast his gaze upon Hiro's sleeping form.

Watching the rise and fall of the green line on the heart monitor beside his little brother's bed for a moment, he let his eyes examine the heartrate, temperature, and blood pressure displayed there. Then his gaze continued its journey to Hiro's chest where it observed the steady rise and fall of his chest under the blankets and hospital gown like the movement was hypnotizing. Certainly it was much better than it had been when they'd arrived 6 hours ago.

He'd supervised his little brother while he soaked in the water, waiting until Baymax announced that his temperature had dropped to 102.9 degrees. While not great it was definitely better than the 104.0 it had been an hour before so Tadashi had settled for that, wrapped a towel around his brother, and pulled him out of the tub. He'd been concerned when Hiro had failed to wake up as he was moved and his concern only grew higher once he was, dry, half dressed, and had still not stirred.

It was then that Baymax announced the results of his gathered data.

Bacterial Pneumonia.

An illness that was bad for any person had latched onto his asthmatic, sleep-deprived, weightless, _young, Hamada _brother. Tadashi could literally feel the color drip out of his face. He'd stumbled back against the bed, completely forgetting about the marks under Hiro's arm, and called for his aunt.

So many factors, so many things that were against his little brother's chance of recovery- how was he going to get better? Baymax wasn't equipped for this!

Together, they'd all spent intervals of the morning watching Hiro's restless sleep and keeping his temperature down. But his fever was as stubborn as its host and rose and fell like a roller coaster. There was hardly a moment that Hiro went without a breathing mask strapped to his face. Their attempts to wake and get some water in him had proven impossible more than once so Tadashi and Aunt Cass had had to soak a cloth and then strain it over Hiro's mouth in the old-fashioned style to get him to drink.

Noon hadn't rolled around fast enough. The ambulance hadn't gotten there fast enough. It had taken way too much time and now Tadashi aggressively refused to even think about abandoning his brother.

Hiro _hated _hospitals.

Tadashi couldn't bear to think about what it would be like for his little brother if he woke up here all alone. He watched with baited breath as his younger sibling shifted on the mattress, furrowing his brow as though in confusion and groaning in his sleep.

Upon arrival, Hiro had been immediately taken to a private room and deposited on the bed where a nurse began hooking him up to various machines. Aunt Cass was questioned and handed various forms, filling out paperwork as another nurse pelted Tadashi with questions regarding Hiro's medical history and what his symptoms were. The room had been buzzing with 5 to 6 people at a time for almost 30 minutes until a doctor came in and ran a few tests.

Then he and his aunt had been chased out to continue with paperwork while Dr. Hanami remained to perform more tests.

Later he confirmed what Baymax had reported before explaining that they'd keep Hiro on various antibiotics and oxygen supplements. Up until 30 minutes ago his little brother had been on a _ventilator_. Sitting at his bedside with Aunt Cass outside talking to the insurance company on her cell and double checking the files she'd been given, Tadashi had watched the machine breathing for his brother with his lip between his teeth. Knee fluttering, chin resting in his hands, gaze narrowed and serious he'd wished he could have brought Baymax in with them.

It had been a struggle to satiate himself with the too-low and too-high numbers on the machines around Hiro's bed.

But perhaps the worst part was when his brother's doctor had pulled them both aside and gently explained that, in his examinations, he'd found evidence of what looked like self-harm on Hiro's body.

Aunt Cass hadn't believed him. Not until Tadashi had sat back and put his head in his hands, clutching his hair in a white-knuckled grip and thumbs pressed into his eyes.

Those marks under Hiro's arms that he'd seen?

The way he'd been refusing to get dressed in front of Tadashi since as far back as the 9th grade?

His reasons for flying almost frantically through highschool and then refusing with all the hell hath and fury he could muster against c_ollege?_

_Oh, Hiro… _

_How long…?_

Then came explaining the contusion on his arm. Dr. Hanami agreed that it looked like Hiro had been grabbed by someone. He'd already filed a police report for them after looking over the x-rays and discovering faint impressions from previous wounds, bone fractures, and other difficult-to-find scars littered across the child's body.* Aunt Cass had thanked him a little roughly, still angered that the doctor had initially thought Hiro was being abused by his family. With a pat on the back and a few words of condolence the red-headed, middle aged man had walked away.

Tadashi had spent a lot of time after that in the emergency room pacing back and forth, going over all the additions he'd need to hook Baymax up with after this was over. Clearly, his robotics project still needed a lot of work. He couldn't keep using the word "ow" to activate him as, such that Hiro had proven, there were cases where the patient couldn't or wouldn't ask for help. He hadn't sat down until Aunt Cass grabbed him and forced him into her chair.

"He's going to be okay," she'd vowed, "The hardest part was getting him here and now that we've done that we have to leave the rest to the professionals. Pacing around like that is going to drive me crazy and it will worry Hiro once he wakes up." Then she'd taken a step back and made a soothing gesture with her hand, "just breathe, okay? Or else I'm going to ask them to hook _you _up to a ventilator too."

He'd made more of an effort to calm down after that. When Aunt Cass had left for the house to feed Mochi and pick up some work for both of them to occupy themselves with Tadashi had even started mapping out a good time to go and visit his professor.

Of course he had no intention of separating himself from Hiro for the next three days but it was the act that counted, right?

Sighing he leaned forward, plucking Hiro's hand off the sheets as gently as one would if they were picking up broken shards of glass. As his fingers lightly traced the skin puckered by the IV needle and massaged his little brother's knuckles, Tadashi's eyes traced the nasal cannula on Hiro's face. The soft sound of air moving through the tubing, the low thrum of machinery, the sight of the white storm just beyond the window…

_Hiro…_

* * *

_[6:49 PM]_

It was immediately apparent to Hiro that he wasn't in his bed when he woke up. The stiffness of the mattress beneath him coupled with the uncharacteristic shape alerted him well enough to its unfamiliarity. The darkness that he was stuck in was tainted by the red tint of light hitting the back of his eyelids and highlighting the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin. The odd, uncomfortable sensation of oxygen flowing into his nose made him crinkle said facial feature and reach up to pull this strange obstruction away.

"Hey," a voice he quickly recognized as Tadashi's abruptly interrupted the silence and something grabbed his hand before it could navigate its way to his face, "Hey, leave it in, buddy, you gotta leave it in."

Sent further along the process of waking up, Hiro sucked in a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and shifted his shoulders against the unfamiliar mattress with a groan of disapproval.

"Tadashi?" he rasped and coughed lightly. Dizzily expecting an attack he immediately tensed up.

A large hand reached out and grasped the conjunction of his shoulder and his neck, lightly massaging the tight muscle as another slipped up against his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm right here, Bonehead. It's okay." With some effort Hiro managed to persuade his long lashes to part, releasing his gaze from its black-red prison. Swallowing thickly he caught sight of his big brother a foot and a half at best away. The concern in his eyes was deeper than Hiro had seen it since their parent's death but he momentarily abandoned his focus and let his vision flit about the room a little.

The walls were white.

The curtains were white.

He turned his head; the sheets were cotton blue with white stripes?

"Wah?" he mumbled, his tongue felt numb in his mouth.

He must have been staring in bewilderment at the sheets longer than he'd intended because a moment later Tadashi was snapping his fingers in front of his eyes.

"Hey, you in there Bonehead?" Craning his head back Hiro shook his head.

"Mm'mm," he hummed in disapproval, "nope, nah, nag at alllllll."

Tadashi sighed and Hiro laughed somewhat drunkenly, the sound of flesh smacking flesh indicating the facepalm that had been performed, "you're doped up, knucklehead."

"Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaaahhhh~"

A sharp cough caught him off guard and he curled forwards as pain spun through his head and chest. Woah, everything was all floaty.

"Hey, stop- relax," Tadashi reprimanded, setting a hand against Hiro's shoulders and pressing him against the rumpled mattress, "Don't shout like that or you'll tear something and then you'll have a tube down your throat again, doofus."

"Tadaahhhhhh-shi," Hiro called, giggling at himself. Things kept coming in and out of focus and _man _did talking feel _weird! _He could feel every syllable vibrate in his throat. He felt weights in his lungs and wondered what they needed the exercise for- maybe it was for speaking? It did take so much energy, after all.

Tadashi reached out and grabbed Hiro's flailing hands, pulling them down and holding them there, "what?"

"Di'yew knoh- thahg dah firsh bot ere' makeded was in fifth censhury B.C by Arggyatazzzzzzzz," he ended his sentence in a long groggy breath and missed the amused smile on his brother's face. "Tada-nii," he began again and his smile waned a bit- oh, how he really missed that name- "di'yew knoh; vah virst humanoid bot debugeted in 1939 an waz 7 feet tall an talked more 'an 700 wordz on 78-rpm recorss to," he trailed off sleepily, throat flexing as he swallowed, "pretend convershashions?"

A little voice in the back of Tadashi's head giggled 'blackmail!' but he pushed it aside and let his brother ramble deliriously about random robot facts.

Things, arguably, didn't _really_ get good until Hiro got himself tangled up in math, "2b plus or minus the squah roog of- what?... of 62-NO!" Tadashi flinched at the abrupt change in volume, "of 6_4_ o're the thing of 6…?!"

"The square root of 6?" he supplied helpfully. He could just see all the question marks dancing above his little brother's head.

"Nooohh, booooo!" Hiro refuted then went off on cosines and sines and the electrical capabilities of plasma. Tadashi was a little worried at how specific his little brother was when he told him _just how far back _you needed to stand when testing this.

Soon enough though, Hiro was once again taken by sleep and Tadashi was left alone in the room. As he sat there combing his fingers through his little brother's fluffy hair, waiting for his aunt to get back, he never noticed the figure standing in the doorway behind him.

* * *

*_Oh, I'm sorry. If it's accurate medical practice you're looking for you won't find it here._

_*frantically uploads chapter before blackout hits*_


	9. Kizuato

_To ilovemesomepotatoes: Because you are a guest I could not reply to you using the typical manner. Thank you /so/ much for your wonderful words! You are very sweet and I hope the holidays treat you well. :)_

* * *

-Chapter 9-

\- 傷跡 -

-Kizuato-

* * *

_[8:00 PM]_

_[Aunt Cass]_

She couldn't resist the smile that broke across her face when she returned to find Tadashi slumped over Hiro's bed, clutching his hand. There were rings under his eyes from lack of sleep and he looked a little pale but with his face pressed into the scratchy hospital sheets he looked so relaxed she couldn't bear to consider waking him. With as much care as she could muster she set down her bags, put her coffee cup on the nightstand, and approached the bathroom. There was a couch pushed up against the wall at the end of Hiro's bed- one that she was sure someone would be living on over the next few days.

She patted Tadashi's head as she passed.

Pushing the bathroom door open she grabbed a spare chair from the corner before returning to her nephew's side.

Carefully unfolding her seat she set it on the ground opposite from Tadashi but just before she could collapse, exhausted from her journey home and back in this freezing weather, her eyes wandered to Hiro's pale face. It had taken her a little bit to thaw once she'd returned and the hospital staff had been kind enough to shower her with blankets and free coffee. She really loved the service at the San Fransokyo Overlake Emergency Center. Aunt Cass knew she could trust them to do whatever possible to keep Hiro well.

And yet, there was that little voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother telling her to worry and fuss and guard her little one with everything she had.

_He looks so frail, _she thought, biting her lip as she looked over the pale, somewhat gaunt, face below. Glancing at Tadashi she leaned forwards so she could sit on the mattress and loom over his sleeping form. For the first time in days Hiro's face expressed bliss. His brow was completely relaxed, mouth slack, eyelids smooth, and the faintest of little, squeaky snores rumbling out of his throat. Love welled up in her as she watched the youngest and last-born Hamada. It sat in her chest, bulbous, swelling, warm; it left her wanting nothing more than to scoop him up just like she used to and nuzzle his little face.

Her eyes trailed down his pallid, relaxed expression, flickered to the gibberish on the monitors, then caught the slipping hospital gown on his shoulder.

She'd known Hiro all his life but he hadn't been "hers" until he was 3 and as a child he had absolutely driven _her crazy! _He'd run around the cafe harassing patrons, unplugging various devices, taking them apart, and _stealing car parts when he thought no-one was looking. _Tadashi could attest to the number of heart attacks he'd given her- oh, and don't even get her started on the time Hiro had crawled into the oven and started taking it apart from the inside.

Before realizing it she'd started untying the strings to Hiro's hospital gown and was peeling the fabric away. He didn't stir as she pulled the covers down and completely exposed his shoulder. The bruise had been covered with a special cream she couldn't remember the name of and then bandaged up to keep it lightly compressed.

But that wasn't what she was looking for.

Aunt Cass paused with her right hand lifted, forming a loose fist, while her left kept her propped up beside Hiro's hip. Did she want to do this?

She shook her head; no, but she _needed_ to.

Shifting herself so she could sit without support on the mattress she reached out and dipped her fingers under Hiro's arm, working the digits so they gently curled around his bicep and lifted it upwards. With a little bit of prodding she managed to move her nephew's arm and expose the flesh tucked against his side, just below the pit.

That's where she found them:

Neat, thin scars each tilted a little bit upwards as though the one who had inflicted them had been very close. She could tell by the way they had been administered, how they were thickest towards the ends, that the one who had carved them into Hiro's flesh had used his right hand. Her boy shifted under the sheets, turning his face away from her and letting his chin rest on his opposite shoulder.

_He's so small._

Aunt Cass's eyes burned.

Years ago her mother had told her all sorts of things about children- back when she was little.

This is when you need to check the diaper.

Here's what you do if they start begging.

At this age they start getting rebellious.

And here's how you guilt them when they've done something wrong.

But what was she supposed to do about this?

It was overwhelming. What were you supposed to do when one of your kids felt safer carving into himself than talking to his family about his problems?

The sight of the scars made tears well up in her eyes and Cass had to smack a hand over her mouth to muffle herself, using her other hand to lightly trace the gleaming white marks on her nephew's skin. From the looks of things, Hiro had cut into the same place over and over again. It was obvious that, no matter how difficult things had been for him, he desperately wanted to keep his wounds hidden from his family.

"Nn," a soft shiver ran through the body of the prepubescent teen below and he sucked in a breath. Cass watched his chest inflate sharply before slowly deflating, the ripple of muscle reflecting the beating of his heart.

Dr. Hanami had explained that these wounds were not recent, that Hiro had stopped cutting on his own as far back as 9 months ago- maybe even a year ago…

That meant that he had fought through his own distress and put himself back together and none of them had ever noticed it.

That wasn't comforting.

_That was worse. _

She might not have given birth to the Hamada brothers but she _cared _about them as fiercely as any mother would. The pricks of tears in her eyes slowly trailed down her face as she ran a thumb across the lumps formed over her little one's skin.

"Mmm," Hiro mumbled, face contorting as he shifted in discomfort.

Aunt Cass took her hand away and pressed it over the one already on her face, choking quietly as she could while her tears grew a thicker. Experiencing the chill Hiro pulled his arm against his body and coughed weakly. The older woman watched as the movement heaved across his chest, shuddered through his throat, and twitching tongue- his mouth open just enough for her to see it. Memories of her little teenager as a child sticking that slimy thing out while he worked shuffled into her minds-eye and she forced herself to smile.

Slapping her hands against her face and wiping her tears away, Aunt Cass leaned down and planted a kiss on Hiro's damp forehead.

_I'll be strong for you, _she promised, _and I'm not going to let you turn me away anymore._

Mumbling something under breath, Hiro breathed deeply, wiggling further under his sheets with the smallest of smiles on his face.

Then she hopped off the bed and looked between her coffee and Tadashi indecisively. A sigh made her shoulders deflate and she left the room on a mission to get another cup.

She wasn't expecting to stumble into another patient just outside the door and only just managed to avoid a catastrophic spill.

"Oh-" she cried as she bumped against the larger man's shoulder, "I'm so sorry!"

With a grimace he stumbled but held up a hand and tried to smile, revealing a familiar face, "Hahah, it's perfectly all right. It's my fault for sneaking around outside like this."

"Oh, Proffessor Callaghan! Wow, I completely forgot to come and visit you after they'd gotten Hiro all checked in! It's good to see you up and about," she returned the smile as warmly as she could, pulling her jacket a little closer to herself, "how do you feel?" He held himself a little more firmly now than he had during her last visit- though he kept the weight on his left foot light. Callaghan was as clean shaven as ever, his set of hospital issued clothing un-rumbled, and looking as fresh as it smelled. Because he had been in the hospital for over a month and had improved significantly the older man was given a less revealing set of scrubs for what the staff called his "escapades".*

"I'll be honest with you;" he began, lowering his voice to a conspirational whisper, "I'm getting pretty tired of the physical therapy, burn cream, and slow-talking nurses," he chuckled, limping forwards and setting a hand against the door frame. The smile on Aunt Cass's face experienced a little more honesty at that and she stepped forward to join him.

The man's face was folded into concern as he observed his would-be student tucked into bed with his older brother draped over the sheets at his side. Callaghan crossed his arms, eyes flickering this way and that as he absorbed every detail of the room.

Cass wondered if this was one of the many traits that made him so good at robotics work.

"I hadn't noticed how small he really is until now," he murmured absentmindedly.

The younger woman smiled in an understanding fashion at that, allowing herself a short chuckle, "You wouldn't believe how good Hiro is at making himself seem tough. The regulars at my café have often noticed the same thing you just did." Then she frowned, "he carries himself better than most adults- I think he forgets that he's still a kid sometimes." She missed the commiserating gleam that ran through Callaghan's eyes.

He turned his gaze onto the bed's occupant again, something like envy in his expression, "My daughter was like that too," he said wistfully. "Before she even grew past my hip she was trying to be an adult."

Cass immediately noticed the use of past-tense in the man's sentence and stiffened. She was neither stupid nor heartless, however, and chose not to comment on it.

"Well, I'm off on a quick coffee run. I'm sure the boys wouldn't mind if you came in and sat down," she told him with a warm smile and then before he could refuse she turned on her heel, "I'll pick something up for you as well." She left him at the doorframe with his mouth opened in protest, totally unaware that she'd never tied Hiro's gown back up.

* * *

_[8:17 PM]_

Someone was poking him.

And not like poking his face to try and wake him up kind-of-poking.

There were fingers prodding into his side, lightly running over the scars tucked carefully under his arm and stretching the skin as though to get a better look at something. It tickled as the pads traced the bumps and hyper sensitive tissue so he crinkled his nose and shifted, worming away as best he could.

The large, unfamiliar fingers followed with a soft sound of disproval, "Let me see, Hiro."

Hiro's movement rolled down his free arm, gathering into a tingling ball around something stuck into the back of his hand, squirming like static around his pressurized index finger. What was that? And who on earth was blowing into his _nose? _What- he shuddered- _**where was he?**_

Then he noticed the familiar feel of a hand wrapped around his own tighten in response to his distress. A distant, less foggy part of his brain registered that this was supposed to make him feel better but he found its effects rather diluted.

_No._

_Stop touching me._

_Leave me alone._

He pressed his right arm up against his side again with another displeased hum and a furrowed brow, forcing the large, calloused pads to rescind their ministrations.

_I just want to sleep in peace, _he thought drowsily and would have turned onto his side if he had the energy.

There were several long moments of deliberate silence before a gust of air signaled a sigh. Hiro was drifting off when the sound of paper, the clicking of a pen, faded from his awareness.

* * *

_[2:30 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

When his consciousness came back the red-tint to his dark vision was gone. Feeling a little weird for having grown accustomed to it Hiro braved the task of opening his laden eyes, wanting to find the peculiar cause of air blowing uncomfortably into his nose and take in his new surroundings. The last thing he'd known Tadashi was-

He grimaced; …Tadashi was putting him in a cold bath.

For the shaky, weak, still-half-asleep teen opening his eyes was quite the battle and it probably took about a minute for him to get his lashes unanchored. With a slow movement he freed his vision and carefully began taking in the room around him.

It was dark and not one that he recognized. Behind him machines buzzed, hummed, whispered, and beeped in various pitches. He looked up and caught sight of the curtain rail- thankfully absent of the actual curtain- framing the bed. For some reason being closed in was a rather terrifying thought at this moment.

The walls around him had a dark trim he couldn't quite make out and the window to his left had its blinds drawn. Beside it was a wardrobe tucked into the corner and a bathroom put at a diagonal angle so its entrance faced the bed. Looking into the darkness of the little room between the doorframe Hiro felt like he was staring down the gullet of some gaping beast and tore his gaze away. To his right there was a door and a few unused machines as well as some guard rails for the bed propped against the wall.

Flexing his hands he shakily ran them over the scratchy blue and white pin-striped sheets, testing the layers on top of him by shifting a little. The movement proved unwise when a burst of dizziness and stars flew through his head. Reaching up to grab his skull and rub his eyes and figure out what was in his nose Hiro was met with an odd tug from his right hand and he looked down, lifting the appendage a little to get a better view. There was an IV needle stuck in a vein below his knuckles and a pulse ox meter lightly pinched his index finger. Around his wrist was a plastic-wrapped, yellow paper bracelet with his name, DOB, what he presumed was his DOA, and patient ID number.*

That was when he reached out with his other hand, swallowing thickly at the sight of the bulge over the needle. He wasn't prepared for the pain that erupted over his bicep and emitted a sharp, raspy squawk. Curling over onto his side and wrapping his right hand around the hurting area, Hiro bit his lip.

He was in a hospital.

He was in a hospital at who-knows-what time on who-knows-what day.

He was in a hospital and he was _alone. _

_Tadashi! _

As though summoned by the mental plea his big brother erupted up at his side, holding his shoulder and trying his hardest to look into Hiro's eyes.

"Hiro- Hiro! I need you to say something- tell me what hurts," his big brother demanded, "Do I need to call a nurse?" Before giving him the chance to reply he was reaching up to press the call button.

"Tadashi, stop, I'm f-" his throat was closing up, his head was spinning, soft wheezes flew out with every thready breath, and he could feel the familiar tickle of a cough threatening to overtake him, "f-ine!"

"How long are you going to keep saying that-" Tadashi began to reprimand.

"Don't call a nurse!" Hiro was begging now and his voice was laced thickly with pain more emotional than physical, "_please_."

Hospital.

Hospitals meant death.

Hospitals meant sickness and hopelessness and _eibetsu!*_

He couldn't see his big brother's face and as the pain in his sore arm wound down Hiro made an effort to recollect himself, gathering up the shattered pieces of his dignity. Before he could finish, however, a weight joined him on the bed.

"Tada- what a-are yo-u doing?" he coughed, bewilderment in his eyes as he temporarily forgot the burning sensation in his throat.

A yawn escaped his big brother as he settled in beside Hiro, resting his chin on the top of his head, "I'm sleeping here, Bonehead. Isn't it obvious?"

Uncomfortable for a multitude of reasons- the biggest one being that he was not one to be babied- the youngest Hamada tried to wiggle out of the arms that trapped him against Tadashi's chest. He winced when his movements pulled against the IV.

"This," he coughed again, "is ridc-culous, Ta-Ta-Tadashi." He hardly noticed it when his voice started getting quieter and his eyelids got heavier.

"No," his big brother's voice was startlingly firm, "I'm _never_ leaving you alone again, Hiro."

_Awkward, _Hiro thought weakly, _what happens when I need to go to the bathroom? _

A more serious part of him worried; why is he saying that? What's happened? When did Tadashi become clingy? And most importantly; Did he find out the truth?

He opened his mouth to ask but he was declining quickly and didn't get past a quiet, breathy, wheezy, "Tada…nii…?"

* * *

_*It takes _years _to heal from burn-wounds. For 3__rd__ and 2nd degree wounds on a man as old as Callaghan I'd want to keep him in the hospital for a while…_

_*DOA: Date of admittance _

_*Eibetsu: Japanese for "last farewell"_


	10. Geraku

_To TheGuest92 (and any who may be concerned): I hope you know that I meant no offense by my exuberant remarks about sassy black women. I am well aware that not all African-American women will sound or act like that and I genuinely love them for their diversity, strength, and resilience. It may help you to know that I am half Zimbabwean, myself, and lived segments of my life in Africa. I have family there and plan on finding work in the area. :) I hope that my dip into the comedic value of this stereotype has not offended you terribly and if it has to you or any of my other readers I sincerely apologize. I am writing this story for my own enjoyment so my tongue is very lax, please excuse me._

_While we're on the subject of respect: I need __**all of you**__ to understand that I am intentionally making my mentions of medical mumbo-jumbo and the doctor's involvement brief in this story. A lot has been going on in my life; I lost a friend this month, my sister fell very ill with the same stuff Hiro's got (minus the asthma and additional trauma), and my mother stuffed up her foot and has been bedridden for weeks. I have been in an out of hospitals_ a lot. _Personally, I cannot bear to put a good amount of detail to these parts of the story. Please forgive me, I've tried but what you see is all I can offer at this time. :)_

_Thanks for those of you who took the time to read this._

_If you're interested here are some devastating songs to listen to while reading: _

The Machine _by Mary Lambert. _

_Tracks 04, 15, and 17 of the Big Hero 6 soundtrack. [You can easily find all of these on Youtube.]_

* * *

-Chapter 10-

-下落 –

-Geraku-

_[8:45 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

_What the hell. _Hiro thought gruffly, stuck in the sleepy embrace of one 21-year-old Tadashi Hamada and feeling remarkably like a teddy bear. Similar to the nasal cannula wrapped around his face, his big brother had become tangled up in a mess of sheets and limbs with his him, breathing evenly into his hair. One arm was locked against Hiro's chest, pointedly woven under both of his arms and holding him tightly. The other, he presumed, cushioned Tadashi's head and kept it elevated slightly so he wouldn't be breathing down his little brother's neck- knowing how much Hiro hated that particular sensation. _How long have I been stuck like this? _

His lower eye twitched with irritation and, muscles quivering, he bit down on his lip. He felt half drowned and half pummeled as he lay there coughing lightly (and not knowing what to do with the resulting phlegm), wheezing, and trying to work out a plan to freedom. Reaching up with his free arm, ignoring the ache he received upon doing so, he rubbed his fingers in a circular motion on his temple.

The youngest Hamada had no idea how long he'd been in the hospital for but he was certain that it had been several days now since he'd last gotten to walk around. He was tired, his throat hurt, his head ached, his arm throbbed, and he still felt a few shades shy of hellish. But that didn't change the fact that he was fourteen and did not enjoy being confined to a bed for any reason.

He wanted- no, _needed _to get up and stretch before he killed himself!

For a while he hungrily eyed the bathroom, thinking that it would be a perfect excuse to get out of bed and move around a little. Then he remembered his physical attachment to the bed via IV lines and a heart monitor that promised to announce his absence the second he took the pulse ox meter from his finger. Heaving a deep sigh- then wincing and coughing- he closed his eyes and took in the gentle sound of Tadashi breathing.

In.

_Fwooh._

Out.

_Whoosh._

In.

_Fwooh._

Out.

_Whoosh._

He couldn't deny that the sound was soothing and tilted his head down, nuzzling the pillow as he worked to get himself more comfortable. _Well, if I can't get up I might as well kill some time…_

Hiro was just about to drift off when the click of the door opening caught his attention. As heels clopped into the room he kept his eyes closed, wondering what this person wanted.

It was probably just a nurse here to check his vitals or something.

"Tadashi, the cafeter- Aww," Aunt Cass's whispered coo immediately derailed that thought and Hiro flinched.

_Damn. _

Before he could stop himself a yawn broke his exterior, his entire body tensing up in response as he wheezed his way through it with tears pricking the corners of his eyes. A burning pain stretched through his esophagus with the motion and he flinched, clasping a hand around his throat as he finished. Behind him Tadashi shifted, roused by the sound of their Aunt's voice. In the process of opening his eyes Hiro caught the sound of something clicking and looked up just in time to see his guardian putting her phone away.

"Oh, you did _not_," he rasped, horrified- both by the sound of his own voice and the possibility of additional blackmail. Good god, he sounded like a heavy chain smoker!

"Oh, I _did,_" Aunt Cass teased devilishly, coming to the seat at his bedside, "this is a perfect pic for the hall of fame!" A low groan of dismay worked its way past Hiro's throat and he flopped his head back into the pillow, trying to hide his face as Tadashi roused behind him. The "hall of fame", as Aunt Cass called it, was a scrapbook of pictures she'd gathered over the years featuring every invention and resulting infliction the two brother's had endured. Photos of their progress on one robotics project brought to an abrupt end by a malfunction that landed them both in the ER, only to get out days later and restart the whole thing littered the thickening album.

"Waaahh," Tadashi yawned, untangling himself from cords and sheets and his little brother, "What are you two going on about?" he asked, voice husky with the lingering effects of sleep.

"Family ph-"

"Black mail."

Although he couldn't see his brother's face Hiro imagined the groggy confusion in his eyes transform into delight as a laugh that sounded half happy and half relieved bubbled out of Tadashi's throat. Pain spiked through the younger Hamada's brain at the sound and he groaned with agitation, trying even harder to burry himself into the mess of hospital sheets and out of sight.

"Sorry, Hiro," his brother's voice immediately lowered in volume, "Are you alright? How do you feel?"

There was a long, worrisome pause that made both elders wonder if he'd had gone back to sleep before he supplied his report;

"I. Am. Going. To. _Die._"

Because his head was burrowed so far into the pillow Hiro missed the look of worry shared between Tadashi and Aunt Cass. Shifting on the wobbly mattress his older brother set a warm hand on his back.

"Do you need me to get the doctor, buddy?" he murmured sympathetically.

With an unconvincing cough Hiro shook his head, feeling the strength of exhaustion's grip grow tighter around his consciousness. He wanted to sleep but at the same time he wanted to walk around. Pulled in two opposite directions he tightened himself a little in a feeble attempt to shake off stress.

"Hiro?" this time it was Aunt Cass, "Honey, I think you need to see someone."

"No," he refuted adamantly, "I'm fine." A small shudder ran through him, so small that if Tadashi hadn't literally been lying against him he never would have noticed it. In the lowest of voices he muttered, "It's cold."

There was deliberate silence for a few moments. Then a dip on the mattress and a gust of air along his back as Tadashi removed himself. Fighting off another painful yawn he missed the shuffle of movement, the whisper of clothing, and the brief exchange between aunt and big brother. Then a new thickness was laid across him and Aunt Cass was getting up. Removing his head from its hiding place Hiro observed his brother as he laid a new blanket across him.

"What?" he asked, "Where did you even get that?"

"The couch," Tadashi replied simply, watching Hiro watch Aunt Cass suspiciously as she headed to the bathroom.

"Tadashi," she called at the doorway and the older Hamada glanced up from his work, "I put those books you wanted in the bag at the bottom of Hiro's bed."

"Okay," he replied, tucking his brother in tighter than necessary, "Thanks!" The door to the bathroom closed as Tadashi finished imprisoning his younger sibling.

Observing the taut sheets with a deadpan expression Hiro flicked his eyes up at his older brother- who was quite pleased to be feigning obliviousness.

"Well, okay," he finally rasped, "I guess we don't need to worry about me magically floating out of bed, now. Thanks." He squirmed around in an attempt to loosen up his prison as Tadashi chuckled, taking Aunt Cass's seat.

"So, did you sleep well?" he asked his scowling little brother, trying not to frown when he observed his vitals.

"I doubt I slept any better than you did," he muttered honestly, focused on his task. When he noticed the waver to his brother's smile he sighed, "I just mean that it was less 'sleeping' as it was being 'comatose'. Don't worry so much, geeze."

Tadashi chose not to comment on how wiped out his brother looked regardless of that. Propping himself up, Hiro leaned back into the pillows and released a clipped, shuddering sigh. His head flopped almost bonelessly against the flat cushions, as though its weight was too much for his neck to carry.

Then he noticed the look on his brother's face. There was something imploring in his eyes, a question that just begged to be asked but remained lodged in his throat like Tadashi wasn't sure how to phrase himself.

Hiro was too tired to address it, though, the ache that had demanded he move around now gone. He didn't notice that his eyes had begun closing until everything started getting dark. Grunting with surprise he flinched and lifted his hand to scrub at his eyes, trying to ignore the way the IV pulled at his skin. A yawn threatened to burn through him again.

"Hey," the seriousness in Tadashi's voice immediately grabbed Hiro's diminishing attention and he tilted his head towards him somewhat groggily. The smile on his big brother's face had diminished and he hated seeing the smoothness of his face like that. He hated the way his brows came together with the slightest pinch, the way his eyes seemed to just sink, and his mouth a thin, sharp line across his expression. It was like he was disappointed over something.

"What?" Hiro asked.

"There's something," his brother paused uncertainly for a moment, then sighed as though he'd lost a battle, "There's something we need to talk about when you're up for it."

Usually the younger would have leapt at the chance to tease his unmovable older brother over something he was unsure about but this time Hiro found he felt too tired to make an attempt. And a part of him really didn't want to know what Tadashi had to say.

With worms crawling inside his heart and an ache he couldn't discern between physical or mental from the same area, he searched his brother's eyes. Brown pools slowly moved this way and that as he searched for the answers he wanted fruitlessly.

He'd almost forgotten what his brother had asked by the time he quietly replied, "Sure."

By the time Aunt Cass came out of the bathroom his breathing had evened out and his heart rate had steadied.

"Okay boys-" she began, wiping her hands on her pants. Tadashi quickly hushed her and pointed at his little brother. She froze at the sight of Hiro sound asleep, nestled into his pillows and smiled softly. "Well then, why don't you and I go get some food?"

* * *

_[10:15 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Tadashi watched with unbidden concern as Dr. Hanami examined his younger brother, wishing for the first time that he could get into contact with his friends about the situation.

"Take as deep a breath as you can for me," the suave, middle-aged man requested gently, holding the dais of his stethoscope under Hiro's hospital gown. The upper half of the bed had been inclined to let the young patient sit up for his examination. Leaning back against the elevated mattress and his pillows, Hiro did as he was asked slowly and cautiously. Tadashi watched his brother's chest rise and falter after a moment, pain spreading across his face as he did so. The doctor frowned, freckles on his nose contorting as he listened to his patient's struggle. Before he'd gotten a full breath he was exhaling. "Okay," Dr. Hanami murmured, moving the dais to the other side of Hiro's chest, "and again. As deep as you can." As instructed the young teen tried to take a breath. This time, however, he erupted into a fit of coughing. In response Tadashi tensed, ready to come to his brother's aid but the stocky nurse got to him first.

"Here, hun," she said sympathetically, handing the young patient a cup of water.

"Thanks," Hiro wheezed weakly and the sound made Tadashi's heart clench. He was so pale, he shivered, he wheezed, and even breathing hurt him. Taking small sips of the offered drink Hiro sent his anxious family members as reassuring a smile as he could.

"And how are you feeling?" Dr. Hanami asked, leaning back in his chair and carefully examining his patient's expression, "no lies, son."

That made him grimace and scratch his cheek with his index finger, "tired, mostly."

"What else?"

Hiro hesitated, thinking his response over. Tadashi could see the gears in his head working.

"Hiro," he urged. Maybe it was the sound of his voice, or perhaps it was the concern in his eyes that got the rest out of his little brother.

"Breathing's a little easier than before but that aside I don't really feel much better," he admitted reluctantly.

The doctor frowned, looking over the folder he had in his lap as the nurse took the cup from Hiro's hands, "It sounds to me like the infection has moved to both lungs, are you sure your breathing has gotten better?"

Aunt Cass chose that moment to jump in, "What do you mean it's moved to both lungs?" she asked.

"When Hiro was first brought in, I listened to his breathing and detected mucus in his right lung," he pulled out a diagram of human lungs and pointed to the bronchi, "The mucus has been building up in these branches here, closing off the airways and making it harder to breath for him-"

"What, like his asthma?" Aunt Cass interrupted and Hiro couldn't resist a small smile of amusement. When his aunt wanted to say something in situations like this, Damnit, everyone would know.

"A little," Dr. Hanami explained patiently, "in an asthmatic attack the bronchi inflame and swell up. What we're seeing here is blockage- but instead of it just being in his right lung now I can hear it in his left lung as well." Newfound concern spread across Aunt Cass's face as the red-headed doctor turned back to his patient, "are you sure your breathing feels better?"

"Uh-" Hiro began but stopped when he caught sight of the dark disproval on Tadashi's face. "Maybe just a bit?"

Seeming to realize what his patient was trying to do, Dr. Hanami put his hands together and looked him over sympathetically, "well, you're a few steps shy from panting so clearly the antibacterial drip isn't doing its job. And you're still wheezing so I'll have Susan put you on a new IV and some glucocorticoid inhalation solution." Then he turned to Tadashi and Aunt Cass, "If anything changes call a nurse. Please, don't be shy about it. Even if you think it's small it could make a big difference. Susan, I'll leave the rest to you," he nodded at the brunette and she smiled.

"Thank you, doctor."

"Miss Hamada, if I may have a word?" the man asked, standing up and letting the nurse take over caring for Hiro. Tadashi kept track of the exchange between the two for a moment and then followed his aunt and his brother's doctor out the door.

Gently closing the door behind them, Dr. Hanami looked at the two of them with a gentle expression and Tadashi knew he wasn't going to like what followed.

"Hiro has been in our care for almost 24 hours now but he's not improving at the pace I would like him to be. If his condition continues declining I'm afraid he's going to have to be moved to the ICU where we'll have to put him under and reinstate the ventilator to help him breath."

Aunt Cass lifted a hand to her collar bone, distressed by the news. Meanwhile Tadashi stiffened, clenching his fists.

"He's not in any condition for being sick," Dr. Hanami continued at a tone that was more steely than the last, "As you know Bacterial pneumonia is dangerous under normal circumstances and with Hiro's body as exhausted as it is fighting against this will be hard for him. He'll be exhausted for quite some time and it will take him longer to recover. For now, I'll set him on the clock for regular checks with the nurses. Someone should come in and record his vitals every hour and every half hour someone should pop up to check on him. Please be sure that eats every bit of what he's given for lunch and dinner today- no matter how tasteless. If he's hungry I want either one of you or a nurse to get him something to eat. Same with drinking." With one final look at the two of them he asked, "Do either of you have any questions?"

The distressing sound of Hiro coughing from the room distracted Tadashi for a moment but he still managed to catch the gist of what his aunt was asking, "how long until you make the decision to move him?"

"I'm going to give him a few hours, two at least, four at most. If this new drip isn't working after an hour and a half then he'll be given a different one and if our results continue to show no improvement our best option would be to move him into intensive care," Dr. Hanami explained.

Biting her lip, Aunt Cass nodded, "I understand. Is there anything we can do?"

The middle-aged man looked between the two of them and supplied a smile, "Keeping him company is the best thing you can do for him right now. I understand that Hiro is uncomfortable with hospitals and we don't want him to get stressed." He paused, "if you have no more questions then I will leave you to your lunch. And if I might recommend the sweets in the gift shop for dessert, they're a great pick-me-up." With one last smile he turned on his heel and strode down the hall to his next patient.

* * *

_[2:23 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Leaning back against the mirror with a bag rustling in his grasp Tadashi used his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes and waited for the elevator doors to close. A long sigh heaved its way out of his lungs and he reached forward to jam a finger into the 4th floor button. Outside the blizzard continued to storm through San Fransokyo with no signs of stopping, leading news reporters to broadcast the expectation that it would last for several days longer than they'd predicted.

With a ding the doors swished shut and he was left with the tune of perky elevator music. Tadashi didn't pay the sound much mind, lost in thought as he was. He'd hoped that Hiro would be doing better by today but given both the pallor of his face and the weakness he'd displayed that morning he wasn't doing much better. Dr. Hanami only confirmed that when he'd been brought in before lunch.

Tadashi had spent the last few hours watching his little brother struggle with a heavy heart, thick memories rolling through him in tidal waves.

They were _Hamadas_ and Hamadas don't get sick lightly.

Pushing himself back against the railing he clenched his teeth and balled up his fists. He tried not to weigh all the medical factors, add up all the symptoms and the problems and put a number to his brother's chances.

He was just over reacting, that's all. Hiro's going to be fine, he's not even in the ICU.

Yet.

The ding of the elevator seemed to taunt him and he winced, steadying himself before moving forward and striding out of the metal box with the bag swaying at his side. Aunt Cass had had him go to the gift shop and hunt down some sweets but he was pretty sure she'd just wanted to get him out of Hiro's room for a little while. Though Tadashi would admit that it felt good to stretch his legs he'd also confess that it didn't make him feel much better.

If Hiro wasn't better by the time school was back in session this Wednesday then Tadashi would send an email out to his teachers and-

He stopped.

And what?

He couldn't give up his education just like that, could he? He'd dedicated most of his highschool life trying to qualify for the leading robotics school in the state. Could he really let it go? _Should _he?

Swallowing thickly Tadashi shook himself and headed to a nearby vending machine just past the intersection. As he passed this floor's receptionist he smiled, hoping she hadn't noticed his jolt and suspicious pause just now. She just returned the smile knowingly before returning to her work.

Setting the bag down beside the machine, Tadashi pretended to think about what drink he wanted as he stuck quarters through the slot.

_Hiro, _he thought and pressed a random button on the machine, _why do you always have to cause so much trouble? _He listened absently to the buzz and tumble from within the mechanics before reaching down and pulling out a carton. For a long moment he held it in his hand, staring at the coconut on the front unseeingly.

What would he do if Hiro didn't get better?

What was he _supposed _to do if Hiro didn't get better?

_Mom…_

_Dad…_

_What do I-?_

"You planning on using osmosis to drink that?" a familiar voice asked teasingly and Tadashi jerked with surprise.

Looking up and taking a swift step back from the machine his tawny eyes met with the cool blue of his favorite professor, "Professor Callaghan!"

"I wish I could say that it was good to see you, Tadashi," he smiled and limped up to his side, "but given the circumstances that brought you here, I imagine you'd rather be elsewhere."

Tadashi managed a pained smile, "So you know about Hiro…?"

His professor nodded sadly, "I ran into your aunt last night and saw the two of you sleeping together." The warm smile on that old face seemed to lift some stress from Tadashi's shoulders and they sagged with some relief.

"Hiro's got bacterial pneumonia and he's not responding to treatment," he explained, "that coupled with his asthma acting up as well as everything else." He trailed off uncertainly. Sympathy welled up in Callaghan's eyes and, with a small grunt, he hobbled forwards.

"Come on," he said, "let's go find a place to sit."

Somewhat bewildered by the gesture Tadashi followed his professor down the hall and around the corner where they found a small row of seats pushed up against the wall. A relieved groan tumbled out of the old man's throat as he sat down.

"Sir, how's your leg?" Tadashi asked as he likewise sat down.

"Could be better," he admitted, "Doctors are trying to convince me to get some pins stuck in there but I'm holding out some hope that it'll come together naturally." He then held out his hand towards his student expectantly. Confused Tadashi blinked at him for a few moments. "You're not _actually _going to drink that, are you?" he asked, amused.

At that he finally looked down and took in the sight of what he'd chosen from the vending machine. The turquoise carton grasped in his hands had a picture of a smiling coconut filling up a cup with milk and the words across the top, of course, read; _All Natural Coconut Milk! _

A light feeling of disgust welled up in his stomach and he obliged, passing his professor the carton.

"So," Callaghan began, ripping the straw off the side with maybe a little more force than was strictly necessary, "Hiro's your little brother, isn't he?"

Tadashi nodded, "younger than me by 7 years," he turned his gaze to the tiles below his feet, thoughts going a little distant.

"Must be hard," his professor commented, "to see him like that." Silence sat between the two as Callaghan drank and his student deliberated. "How long has Hiro been attending SFIT, now?" he asked abruptly.

"About a month, give or take a few days."

"Ah, that's right, midterms are up- aren't they?"

Tadashi winced slightly, "Yeah, for the first years mostly."

"That's right. And has he been enjoying his classes?" Callaghan asked, treating his student to a soft grin when he caught his glance. He frowned at the glimmer of hurt in the younger man's eyes, however.

"I'm not sure, sir. Hiro's taking 6 classes this quarter," just saying that aloud made Tadashi tired and he ran a hand over his neck, "and first year teachers are always brutal. He-" pausing, the young student tried to collect his thoughts, suddenly unsure if he should be giving his idol this kind of information. Then the floodgates opened, "he hasn't been sleeping. Or eating-or _drinking_. I've only gotten glimpses of him between my classes and recently he hasn't been getting home until late- if at all." Running a hand down his face and leaning back Tadashi continued, "My brother has a tendency for getting so caught up in his projects that it's almost impossible to get him to look after himself. He's smart and his attention is firm. According to the doctors there's no way that Hiro wasn't experiencing the symptoms over the last few days but-" he swallowed, "with the sheer magnitude of his exhaustion coupled with his impenetrable focus its not too surprising that he didn't notice until his body gave out on him." A mixture of surprise and respect glimmered in the elder's eyes but Tadashi didn't see it, "He's smart, professor- smarter than me. If he had the chance he could help so many people…"

There was silence.

Then Callaghan set his drink in his lap and observed his student more closely, "you're worried he won't survive."

The statement didn't surprise Tadashi and he nodded, saying resignedly, "Hamadas don't get sick lightly, sir."

His professor hummed in deliberation, chewing on his response for just a moment, "Well, in my experience the Hamadas are also a _very stubborn_ family." Interested, Tadashi slowly perked up, giving him his full attention and taking in every detail of his reassuring smile, "It saddens me that I never got to talk to your parents about you, Tadashi, because you are my best student and I know they'd be proud of you. You are diligent, hardworking, and patient- traits that are truly honorable in a man." He reached out and patted Tadashi's shoulder, his smile growing wider, "From what I've heard of your brother he's even more stubborn that you are- and _that _is saying something! The two of you don't shy away from hard work and, given that, I'm willing to bet my lab that your brother will come out on top of this. In people like the Hamada's its compulsive, isn't it?" There was a smirk to his professor's face, the soft smile lines reflecting his honesty.

Honored, Tadashi stared at Callaghan with a flabbergasted expression for quite some time before he gathered up enough wit to reply, "Professor, I-"

"Don't give up on your studies, Tadashi," he grunted and rose from the uncomfortable chair, "It would be unfair to your brother." That said the older man set the empty carton of coconut milk on the trashcan and limped away, "come and visit me when Hiro's feeling better, alright?"

"O-ou!" Tadashi called in confirmation just before the man could disappear around the corner. He gave himself a moment, just staring at the carton on the brown bin and sitting on the praise he and his brother had just been gifted.

Then a smile lit his face.

_It's okay. We're both going to make it through this, Hiro._

* * *

_So, I drew a thing for chapter 9 because this chapter got me majorly stuck. Find the link on my profile page._

_As usual, if you liked leave me an O. If you hated leave me an X._


	11. Isshun

_Okay, so, do me a favor; please play the sound track to the movie _Wolf Children _by Masakatsu Takagi in another window. I listened to this lovely, lovely, _lovely _track while I was writing and the experience was breath taking. ;_; _

_(Also please watch that adorable movie!)_

-Chapter 11-

\- 一瞬 -

\- Isshun -

_[11:30 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

_Scritch._

_Swich-itch._

_Scratch._

Hiro crinkled his nose at the soft sounds that filled the room around him, turning his head against the pillows and swallowing. He realized the upper part of the mattress was elevated when he twisted his shoulders slightly back.

_Fwip._

A gust of air signaled a sigh. The shift of clothing and the creak of a chair beside him determined the presences of two separate people.

_Tic,tic,tic,tic._

Was it raining? Something was pattering against the window.

Someone sniffed and suddenly something warm wrapped around his wrist in a motion that was so absentminded he almost felt like a cat. Hiro let himself indulge in the gentle massage for a few drowsy moments as larger fingers working little circles against the skin. He found that he wouldn't mind at all if he drifted off again.

A clicking sound brought him back, however, and he listened to the soft footsteps of an approaching nurse.

"Hello," she whispered sweetly and Hiro immediately recognized Susan's voice. Apparently mother to three little boys, the early-thirty-year-old woman knew just what do to. In his short periods of consciousness he'd grown to appreciate her soft tone, witty remarks, and teasing smirk. She didn't treat him like he was broken, seeming to know that doing so would only make him more uncomfortable. She was kind and experienced in her field- absolutely right where she needed to be. "How's our sleepy genius holding up?"

As though on cue, a soft cough shuddered through Hiro's frame and he scrunched up his face with distaste. The fingers against his wrist gently petted his flesh in commiseration.

"He's sounding a little better," he heard Tadashi report from beside him, leading the young Hamada to the realization that it was his brother's reassuring touch on his wrist, "and his fever has gone down."

The shuffle of feet stopped at the end of the bed and there was a click as the clipboard was taken from its hook.

"Yes," the nurse cried in hushed victory, "that is what we want to see!" There was the sound of flipping paper followed by a few hushed remarks he couldn't quite make out. "His blood pressure is beginning to get better, fever is steadily dropping, coughing up less phlegm- is it still bloody when it comes out?"

"Sometimes, but much less than before," Aunt Cass announced.

"Very good," the brunette said and scribbled something down, "How's his breathing? Are we still getting those kitten wheezes?"

"Almost not at all," Hiro could've touched the delight in Tadashi's voice it was so thick.

"Awesome-sauce~" she crooned, sounding just as happy about his improvement as his family, "it doesn't look like he needs any additional help from me, then. As always, feel free to call for any of us if you need anything."

"Thank you very much!" Aunt Cass whispered as her footsteps receded.

"Oh, not at all- it's my pleasure…." The voices trailed out from Hiro's groggy hearing. For a few moments he was aware only of the burn he got when people stared at his face too long and the strokes of Tadashi's fingers across his wrist.

Then he was once again swallowed up by blackness.

_[12:04 PM]_

_[Hiro]_

_Oh, _he thought somewhat dizzily, _here we go with this again._ The warmth of Tadashi's hand around his wrist remained but his elder had ceased his ministrations since, seemingly focused on something else. Every now and then his thumb would twitch and Hiro would listen to the soothing sound of pages turning before silence dominated again. Taking a little too deep of a breath he coughed quietly, automatically swallowing the mucus that rose into his throat.

_Tap, taptap..taptaptaptap- click._

The sound of pen on paper from another part of the room signaled what he thought was probably Aunt Cass going over last week's earnings. The howling of the wind outside then caught his attention and he furrowed his brow with confusion.

The blizzard was supposed to break on Sunday. He remembered it was Friday when he'd last woken up at home- at least that's what he thought. He must have been brought in on Saturday so that meant he'd been in the hospital for two days?

That conclusion didn't feel right, somehow. His bones ached like he'd been lying in bed for much longer than that…

There was the sound of a chair screeching across the floor suddenly.

"Mmmm!" Aunt Cass gasped, the pop of bone following her vocalization, "Alright, I'm going to hop down to the cafeteria and fetch us all something to eat. Tadashi, will you watch for the caterer for Hiro? They should bring something in for him at the same time they did yesterday."

His big brother's much larger hand squeezed his wrist, "yeah, sure."

"Do you want a salad or a chicken sandwich?" she asked, shuffling about in search of something. "Oh, and I need to call Joseph and check up on Mochi, too," she muttered to herself.

The disgust in Tadashi's voice made Hiro's lips perk just a tiny bit, "Let's go with the salad. I'm not sure what you gave me last time but there was _definitely _no chicken involved."

A soft chuff of amusement rolled out of their aunt and she clopped towards the door, "Alright, I'll be back in a bit."

"Thanks!"

Then the door shut and the two brothers were left in the relative silence of Hiro's hospital room. Braving a deep breath, his nose twitched, by now accustomed to the presence of the nasal cannula wrapped around his face. On the exhale a small, burning pain struck through his chest and he grimaced suddenly, bringing a hand up to the sore area. By the responding ache in his bicep he determined that it was his right.

"Hiro?"

He wasn't even 50% awake when a yawn broke his sleepy exterior, stretching his throat and sending odd little tingles from his tongue to the end of his esophagus. A large hand landed on his shoulder and a chair screeched across the floor. Recovering from the abrupt ache in his chest and trying to shake off his exhaustion, Hiro rubbed a hand over his right eye.

"Tadashi?" he muttered huskily.

"Yeah, I'm right here, buddy," the hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze, "how do you feel?"

"Mm," he coughed, chest jerking with the movement, and yawned again, "less like warm death," he replied thoughtlessly. His vision was a little blurry at first and, confused by the strange burn in his eyes he squinted at his big brother- who appeared as a colorful blob in front of his face.

Hiro was pleased to hear a light chuckle bubble out of Tadashi, watching as he shrugged one shoulder. He blinked with surprise as the older gently began wiping his sibling's eyes with his sleeve and inclined his head back with his lips pursed into something that was definitely _not _a pout.

"You're still stuck in your infamous loading mode, aren't you?" Tadashi commented, moving the soft cashmere fabric across Hiro's heavy lashes. From childhood he'd been known as the family sloth not because he slept more than anyone else but because of the amount of time it took him to wake up. When Hiro was younger he could get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, drink some milk, and then go back to bed with absolutely no foreseeable thought or awareness to what he was doing. They knew he wasn't sleep walking because he responded to conversation, however drowsily. With age this had lessened considerably- now it only happened if he pulled a few too many all-nighters. It occured when he got sick as well but since that was such a rare thing they didn't include it in their statistics.

He hummed and nodded as his brother moved to cleaning his other eye, sitting somewhat awkwardly on the mattress to do so. Another yawn broke free and Hiro scrunched up his nose when the nasal prongs jabbed against more sensitive regions.

Tadashi abruptly pulled his hand away and pointed firmly at him, "don't you dare!"

Sniffling and desperately fighting against a sneeze Hiro slapped both hands over his nose. He ended up losing his battle and jerked off the bed momentarily with the force of the ejective motion.

"Why do I even still need this?" he asked gruffly once he'd recovered, going cross-eyed as he attempted to glare at the intrusion.

"Because you're still not breathing properly," Tadashi informed him deadpan, examining his brother carefully.

"_That _is totally subjective-" Hiro began to protest, steadily waking up.

"-Yeah, no it's not, Bonehead." He scowled darkly at his elder, crossing his arms and wincing when the back of his IV poked against his bruised bicep. Tadashi just smiled and stood up, returning to his chair at his brother's bedside and picking up a book about medical programming.

Curious, the younger Hamada peered over at it, "You giving Baymax some upgrades?"

"_Oh _yeah," his brother nodded as he stuffed his bookmark into place, "he's getting some new tech all right." Setting the book on the table he navigated around the bed and headed to the bathroom with his little brother frowning after him.

"Are you finally going to give him those capacitors I told you about?" he called as Tadashi strolled in and fiddled around a little bit before turning on the tap.

"Sure!" His voice echoed around the tiled, peach-colored room.

"Heeehhh?" Hiro hummed, disbelievingly, clenching his jaw against another yawn and scrubbing his palm against his eye. He ended up yawing anyway.

Tadashi was smiling when he came back with a plastic cup of water and Hiro's vision had cleared again. He held it out for the younger to take but stopped when no movement was made towards it.

"Giiiiiii," his little brother said, squinting suspiciously at him.

"Oh come on, we both know I should have done that ages ago," Tadashi sighed, "now drink this before I force it down your throat."

Begrudgingly Hiro took the offered cup, if only because he was actually thirsty, "Right. And I remember you saying that Baymax was _your_ robotics project and that you're not allowed to accept any outside help." He took a long draught from the cup while his big brother lifted a bag from off the couch at the end of the bed.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, searching through his stuff until he was pulling out a 'history of robotics engineering' textbook lined with dog-eared pages, bits of paper sticking out in all directions, and various sticky notes, "Baymax can't really help anyone if his battery takes days to recharge." Grabbing a pen he returned to his seat, glancing at his brother to make sure he finished drinking. Hiro chose not to provide a response, instead stewing in his own thoughts. He wanted to ask his brother if these changes were influenced by his own bout of sickness but wasn't really sure how he should phrase himself. Ultimately he decided it didn't really matter and crumpled the cup in his hand. He was disturbed by the brief burn of protest that ran up his arm and the weakness that followed it.

There'd be a lot of physical therapy in the dojo after this. Though he knew it would be brutal, Hiro found he missed the feel of the tatami mats beneath his feet and accepted the inevitable journey back to being healthy again.

Using his arms he pushed himself into a more vertical position and peered over the side of the bed to see what his brother was working on. It seemed that Tadashi was expecting him to pass out again because a good chunk of his focus had landed on his notes. For several moments Hiro satisfied himself simply by watching his big brother work, trying unsuccessfully to quit his restless squirming.

"You're wrong," he suddenly blurted, eyeing the answer his brother had begun scribbling in.

Surprised to see Hiro still active, Tadashi looked up and met his eyes. Then he tilted his head and furrowed his brow just the slightest bit, pressing his lips together, "how do you mean?"

"The bypass air moves through the fan blades, which moves this-" he pointed to the center of the jet engine fan drawn across the pages, "which then moves the fan shaft at the center. The bypass air keeps going through the engine, moving through the compressors and into the combustor- right around here-" at that he pointed to another part of the diagram and his brother leaned around his arm to get a good look at what he was jabbing his finger at, "then it weaves through the compressor turbines and comes out the exhaust as heated air. But there's still bypass air that comes out around the exhaust. Between the engine cowling and the interior there is space for the excess bypass to move through.

After a moment, Tadashi smacked a hand against his head, "Of course! There are bypass ducts for that to make it more aerodynamic."

"That's a pretty rudimentary mistake for you, Tadashi," Hiro commented, eyeing his brother, "you sure you're not getting what I've got?"

But the elder just smiled and shook his head, "I'm fine, I'm just not very focused." Seeming to know there was more to it than that but unwilling to press the matter, Hiro nodded, never taking his eyes away from his sibling's face. "Anyway, you should go back to sleep, you need all the rest you can get."

Crinkling his nose a little and leaning back in the sheets, he refuted, "I don't need it."

"Uhuh," his brother replied, unconvinced, "sure. Is that why you keep blinking?"

Finally noticing the action Hiro grumbled and rubbed at his eyes, fighting off another yawn, "geeze."

Smiling Tadashi returned to his notes, "go back to sleep, Bonehead. I'm not going anywhere."

Puffing out his cheeks Hiro leaned back into his assortment of pillows, crossing his arms and looking away from his big brother. There was an aching need in his bones, a desperate tingling in his muscles that begged to feel movement and kept him awake even as his eyes grew heavy. He'd deny it vehemently but he was tired again- at least, in that familiar, caffeinated way. His body ached to move, his heartrate picked up, but he didn't feel any more awake than he had before. Actually, he was starting to run down after his momentary bout of wakefulness.

And yet he couldn't sleep.

It was maybe ten minutes of his heartrate picking up and then slowing down. Ten minutes of Hiro shifting this way and that. Ten minutes of stretching and squirming and just being restless in general before Tadashi closed his book with a snap.

"Okay," he said and turned to face his little brother completely, "what's wrong?"

Hiro's answer was immediate, "nothing."

Tadashi raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Hiro..." The younger grimaced but bit his tongue for a moment, deliberating on his reply.

"Fine, whatever; I wanna get up," he grumbled, "I'm tired of being in bed all the time, I need to go for a walk or something." His muscles tightened and loosened repeatedly until the effort became too strenuous. Swallowing he shifted and glanced at his brother to find him lost in thought. "Forget it, Tadashi," he sighed wearily, "there isn't a solution to this one."

His big brother frowned at the defeat in Hiro's voice but the younger wasn't expecting him to push it. As a guy with a tendency for overstressing when it came to family he didn't spare a moment nursing any hope that his brother would let him escape the confines of his medical prison.

Shuddering and flexing his toes Hiro tried to suppress the physical need to move. Meanwhile, Tadashi got up and with a brief word to his brother left the room. Surprised when he reentered a moment later with a pair of turquoise hospital pants under his arm, Hiro gave him a confused look. Glancing over his shoulder as he pulled the sheets off his little brother's skinny frame Tadashi handed him the pants.

"Put these on," he instructed before turning to the monitors and stripping off a piece of the protective paneling.

For a moment Hiro just held the pants in his grip, "You're not actually-"

"Sh," his brother interrupted, fingers dipped into the mechanics as he busied himself with rewiring the machines.

A sleepy grin caught somewhere between pride and hope lit up Hiro's young face and he worked on pulling the pants on over his boxers. By the time he'd completed the task Tadashi had finished rerouting the heart monitor and was reaching for his brother's smaller hand. Hiro let him take off the clip on his index finger and rubbed it with his other hand as he observed the monitors.

No alarms went off.

The two of them smiled.

"Okay," Tadashi reached up and grabbed the IV bag, removing it from its hook and handing it to his little brother, "make sure you hold it-"

"I know, Tadashi," Hiro was grinning ear to ear now, sleep seemingly forgotten as he practically buzzed in his bed.

His brother looked him over and for a heart stopping moment he thought the elder was going to change his mind. Then he shook himself and turned around, dropping into a crouch with his arms behind him, palms facing upwards.

"Hop on," he said.

Hiro blinked, "Wait, really?"

"Yep," Tadashi nodded, "Hurry up, would you? Lunch is coming up and when the nurses find you gone they aren't going to be happy." Unsure if he should be ecstatic or mortified Hiro shuffled forwards and slid into his brother's grip. It took a bit of situating but when they were ready the younger Hamada was settled on his elder's back with an IV bag in one hand and both arms cross over Tadashi's throat.

Then they were off.

His big brother was surprisingly dainty on his feet as he slipped quietly into the corridor outside. Hiro let his brother take him down the hall, away from the receptionist's desk by the elevators. The scenery wasn't terribly interesting, being only one white wall after another, door after door. But if you know teenagers like him then you also know it doesn't take too much to interest one- especially when they've been bedridden for days.

He peered through open doors and past small windows to see the patients inside, some looking a little worse for wear and others upright and speaking to family. Tadashi didn't say a word as he walked, carrying his brother's weight and wishing that he was heavier. Meanwhile, Hiro leaned forwards on his back to get a better look at a patient through a closed door. She was sitting up and looked to be several years older than himself but, from the looks of things, she wasn't all _there. _He frowned, hoping that he hadn't been that doped up during his stay. Come to think of it…

"Hey, Tadashi?"

"Hmm?"

"What day is it?"

His big brother's shoulders shifted beneath him as they reached the end of the hall and turned down the corner, "Today's Monday, why?" He could feel his younger brother's heart pick up speed against his back and turned his head to look at him, "Hiro?"

His sibling blinked a few times, trying to grasp the information he'd been given, "really? Shouldn't you be in school then?"

Tadashi smiled sympathetically, "Nah, no-one can get into SFIT right now with this storm so we're on break until Wednesday."

Hiro hummed, soothed by the motion of his brother's steps. He hadn't been held piggyback like this for years- maybe. It was difficult to remember right now. They were walking down a corridor that had a line of windows on one side and doors on the other now, giving Hiro his first good look at the blazing storm outside.

"Woah," he murmured, taking in the white curtains of snow just beyond the panes of glass. The driving winds pulled streaming flecks of white this way and that in a crazed frenzy, dancing one way and then yanking off in another seconds later. Sensing his awe, Tadashi paused beside one of the windows and watched as well. In a deadly manner it was both beautiful and mesmerizing. The might of nature was always such an incredible thing to Hiro- it could be as catastrophic as it was stunning in less than a heartbeat. In forms both big and small it could tear him and others apart with hardly any effort at all. The strength of storms, the stubbornness of cancer, the endless supply of turbine energy- it was all devastating in its own right.

A deep sigh heaved successfully from Hiro's lungs, eyes locked on the thick snowflakes plowing down from the skies. Suddenly and quite inexplicably a rather personal thought intruded on his mind's peaceful meanderings. Tadashi had started walking again and Hiro's head had fallen where it rested between his big brother's shoulders.

He could taste embers and smoke on his tongue.

He could hear car horns and the panicked sound of tires fighting for purchase over wet pavement.

He could feel terror strike a quick, clipped chord in his chest.

"Ne," he mumbled tiredly, tongue becoming loose in his drowsiness, "Tadashi?"

"What's up?" his brother hummed.

"Our family's cursed isn't it," Hiro stated more than asked. Beneath him his brother stiffened but kept up his soothing pace.

"I don't think so. What makes you say that?" he questioned, keeping his eyes forward as he tried to anticipate his younger brother's reply.

"It's just," the small voice was quiet and thoughtful, "Mom-" Tadashi stiffened, "Dad. You…" he trailed off.

"Hiro," his big brother swallowed thickly, "What are you getting at?"

There was a thoughtful pause before his sibling slowly continued, "What drives people like us to be willing to sacrifice our own happiness for the sake of others?" he sighed, closing his eyes, "it's not normal. What kind of people even _do _that? Without even a second thought?"

Memories of his near brush with death played through Tadashi's thoughts. He could feel Hiro's grip tighten around his neck and he remembered the iron vice his little brother had had on his wrist that night. Thinking on it now, what he'd almost done really hadn't been that smart. You didn't jump in to help someone unless you were certain that you could- otherwise you'd end up in the same situation yourself and things would only get worse from there.

His brother had known that and he'd been more prepared for a rescue attempt than Tadashi would have expected. Hiro had put a backup program into his phone so, if anything happened, he could remotely control the microbots without the neurotransmitter. Using that he had somehow managed to find Professor Callaghan, wrap him in a ball of metal, and roll him through the wreckage. They had the professor out of there even before the fire department could arrive. Ultimately it had been waiting for the ambulance that had worsened Callaghan's wounds and threatened permanent damage to his leg...

Hiro, meanwhile, had been sure to lecture Tadashi on his foolish unpreparedness a few dozen times after. Even while paramedics had treated his burn wounds he'd ripped right into his older brother.

People said that his actions had been selfless but- _"Dummy! Don't you ever be so selfish ever again!"_

"Hey," he reached back and flicked his little brother's nose, "what are you talking about- I'm right here, Knucklehead."

But he didn't respond to his tease, "You almost weren't."

"Hiro-"

"And sometimes I wonder if its gunna happen to me too." A cold chill struck through Tadashi's heart at that and tightened his hold around his brother's legs, fighting to keep his voice even.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Hiro," he vowed thickly, "I _promise._"

Opening his eyes the younger stared at the back of Tadashi's head for a moment, _and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, either. No matter what, baka-nii._ Hiro clenched his fist in Tadashi's shirt and pressed his forehead into his back, _You, me, and Aunt Cass. We're all we've got left._

"I'm never going to let anything hurt you," his brother announced, this time more to himself than to Hiro. A small, tired smile grew on his little brother's face and his grip on the IV bag loosened. Bobbing up and down on Tadashi's back, breathing in the scent of mint and fabric softener, face pressed into warm cashmere- Hiro couldn't imagine being more content than he was right then.

"Sorry," he muttered before he could be sure what of.

"For what?" Tadashi asked. Prophetic pain in his heart, Hiro struggled to find some kind of adequate reply.

Finally he managed, "For bringing that whole thing up." He drunkenly waved his free hand in a circular gesture. As they turned the corner Hiro lifted his heavy eyelids and caught sight of a gnarled figure standing at the top of the stairwell with a crimson bag hanging from its grasp and a colorful blanket draped over one shoulderjust before Tadashi turned in the opposite direction. He caught sight of brown eyes and thought, _What a strange world this is…_

"Okay, Hiro," his brother shifted him further up into his arms, "What do you say to a bag of gummy bears? It'll be on me."

"Dummy," Hiro mumbled, even more muffled with his face buried into Tadashi's back, "They're…always…'on you'."

Approaching the vending machine, the elder didn't notice his brother slip away and kept talking, "heh, well you know; it's the thought that counts. And anyway, finding gummy bears in a hospital is hard so consider yourself lucky you got put on the floor with the only vending machine that probably has the _good _kind…"

It wasn't until he'd bought his brother the candy that he noticed Hiro was fast asleep on his back, completely unresponsive. He caught the IV bag just before it could fall from his little brother's hand.

Swallowing thickly he stood there in the hall with his one and only sibling latched to his back, thinking heatedly of all the things that _wouldn't _happen to his baby bro, "I'll _always _be here for you, Hiro." He tried not to think about the cuts under Hiro's arms, "Always."

* * *

_Okay- _now_ I get to make things more exciting. [But, what direction do I go? I'm at a fork in the road. Either I can end all of you with one crushing blow or I can drag it out…]_

_O if you liked. X if you didn't. _

_Endnote: SHOUTOUT to every nurse ever. You people are friggn' fabulous, honestly. :') _


	12. Taisetsunahito

_There's a growing list of fanart for this story. If you are interesting in seeing it, you can find it on my profile page. Don't worry, it's very easy to find. And if you want to draw something from/for this story you have my permission. Just send me a link so I can post it on my profile page. :)_

_Also please excuse the errors in this chapter, I'm very tired and was having a difficult time focusing on the corrections today._

* * *

-Chapter 12-

\- 大切な人-

\- Taisetsunahito -

* * *

_[Tuesday Afternoon]_

_[Hiro]_

With the taste of ink in his mouth and his legs crossed beneath him, Hiro sat in his hospital bed with Tadashi's robotics interior design homework sprawled across his lap. He'd finally been relieved of the IV earlier that day and the doctor had let him change into more comfortable pajamas that Aunt Cass had brought from home. The nasal cannula was still on his face- much to his irritation- but Dr. Hanami assured him that they could take it off soon too. If he was still improving by 6 tonight they were _finally _going to let him go home with strict orders to take the prescribed antibacterial medications and get lots of rest.

While not terribly eager to remain bedridden for another week and a half, Hiro was at least excited to get back to tinkering away at home.

Happily scribbling in answers and crossing out incorrect equations from his older brother's weekend homework the young teenager grinned.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" his aunt's familiar voice caught him off guard and Hiro jerked his head up to see her standing inside the door with one hand on the frame.

Unable to scare off his own grin he greeted her, "Hey, Aunt Cass! How was lunch?"

Taking in the sight of her nephew hard at work the older woman scowled, "Young man!" she began with reprimand in her voice, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Hiro blinked and his smile turned cautious, "Heh-" But he was unable to provide a response before she was at his side and gathering up the books, "Aw, come on, Aunt Cass! I'm so _bored!_"

"Then you can find something else to do," she huffed and strode to the end of the bed, "I brought booksfor you because I _don't _want you working on anything." Dumping the work on Tadashi's couch she turned to face her youngest nephew with her arms crossed.

"Hey, you're not still mad about what Tadashi and I did yesterday, are you?" he asked suspiciously.

And that was when the closest thing he had ever seen to a pout burst across his aunt's face, "You gave me a _heart attack!_" her hands flew about the air in a wild gesture. "I came back here and found the bed empty and Tadashi gone and I thought something had happened and you'd been moved into the ER and-" with a grimace Hiro sat and listened to her heated rant with a slightly lowered head. From what he was told Tadashi had received an angry lecture about patient safety from several nurses, Dr. Hanami, and Aunt Cass herself when he finally brought Hiro back to his bed. He'd almost laughed at the chagrined look on his elder's face when he woke up again later that night, curled over his textbooks and trying to work but unable to focus long enough to get it done.

Tadashi was a perfectionist at the best of times. He always sought to make people happy and please his elders. He genuinely wanted to make the people around him smile and he wanted to inspire people.

That said, he didn't always do so well against a lecture. In the right situation with the right people he stood firm but, in this particular case, it was a little hard to be stubborn. Especially because he knew they were right.

But Hiro had just punched his big brother's shoulder when he'd found out and said, "Thanks, Tadashi."

"So what have you got to say for yourself?" Aunt Cass suddenly demanded, fluttering hands settling on her hips.

"E-Eh?" her young nephew jerked to attention, blinking with surprise. _Crap, what did she-? _"U-um, I was-" scrambling for something to satiate his Aunt's fiery rage he ended up giving her a crooked, unsure grin, lowering his head, and saying weakly, "I love you, Aunt Cass?"

The woman simply gave him the most deadpan look he'd ever seen on her face in his life.

After several, almost awkward moments between the two a long sigh heaved out of her throat and she collapsed onto the bed beside his hip.

"You boys," she groaned, reaching out and brushing Hiro's bangs out his eyes, "You'll be the death of me one day, you know that?" Begrudgingly he let her, pursing his lips and flicking his eyes away as a flush of embarrassment crawled through his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled but gave no further reply. For a few moments the two sat there like that in relative silence. Then his Aunt straightened and moved her hand away, instead grabbing both of his and looking him straight in the eye.

"Hiro, we need to have a discussion," she said, suddenly serious.

"Uh'oh," he said, leaning back a little, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

But his aunt didn't rise up to his teasing tone. Instead she just smiled warmly, fiddling with Hiro's hands.

"No, I imagine you won't," she said, "That's probably why Tadashi hasn't brought it up with you yet."

The smile on his face fell at this point and he let his aunt lean back just a bit, "Sweetie, when you first came in," she hesitated, searching for the right words, "the doctors were looking you over and running their tests and," she met his eyes gently, "they found a few things."

For Hiro the very first thing that cross his mind was a little unrealistic.

_Cancer? _He thought, index finger twitching against the pulse ox meter, _Have I got a tumor? This would be a good time to start designing organic nanobots…_

Noticing his distress his aunt took a deep breath and reached out. When he noticed where her hand was headed he instinctively moved away but, as usual, Aunt Cass was stubborn. She didn't stop until the pads of her fingers were pressed over the scars under his arm. Immediate concern lit up his face and he almost smacked a hand against his head- _of course they'd find them!_

"Aunt Cass-" he began, ashamed to find his voice shaky, "It-it's not what it looks like-"

But she didn't let him finish. The next thing Hiro knew she'd wrapped her arms around him and was pulling him close. Eyes wide, his head was pressed into the crook of her neck, wrapped so tightly in her grip that he couldn't imagine trying to move.

"Things have been hard," she murmured, somehow managing to run her fingers through his hair, "I know they have." Hiro didn't say anything and busied himself by playing with her shirt, "Being a genius at your age was never going to be easy and all of us knew that." If possible, her grip on him tightened, "But I never, _ever_, _**ever **_expected you to be so _strong _about it. You were never supposed to grow up so quickly and I was so caught up in work that I never noticed you. I can't believe that I was so ignorant."

"Aunt Cass," Hiro tried to protest but she immediately cut him off.

"Hiro," she pulled away from him and lowered her head, so close their foreheads were almost touching, "You are _never _alone. Do you understand me?" her eyes were intense, "_Ever!_" He swallowed, forcing himself to ignore the slight burning sensation in his eyes. Hiro was a little worried that his aunt would be crying and though the skin on her chin tightened she never shed a tear. "Tadashi and I love you more than can be put to words. You're remarkable for a fourteen year old and no-one on this earth is going to take that away from you. You deserve the chance to learn and to be proud of your skills. I want you to be able to go to school with your head held high and so help me, if I need to give you permission to make a stun gun_ I will!_"

For emphasis she slapped the sheets with her hand and Hiro flinched just the tiniest bit, surprised by the sudden show of aggression from his aunt, "You deserve to be happy, Hiro. Tadashi and I will fight to hell and back for you, but all you have to do is ask. Ok?"

He searched her eyes, guilt weighted heavily in his own. _I never meant for you to think that I would do such a thing…_

"Aunt Cass," he started slowly, "That's not-"

But before he could finish an enormous _boom _erupted from down the hall.

* * *

_[Tadashi]_

His phone buzzed for his attention in the confines of his cardigan pocket but Tadashi chose to ignore it. His connection had been waxing and waning, working only periodically and with the storm beginning to die down he'd begun to get more messages. Probably because he'd texted Honey Lemon about the situation, unsure if he was willing to go to school tomorrow and needing some back up in the lecture hall. He wanted to be with Hiro just for that first day back so he could make him soup and monitor him- if only to keep him from getting out of bed. Aunt Cass said she would close the shop down to look after him but both brothers were protesting that adamantly.

Slipping some change into the vending machine his eyes scanned the options before landing on a bottle of coke. Pressing the designated button for it he watched as the aluminum panel holding it in place moved back and it was pushed forwards.

He also needed to talk to Hiro about his scars.

Without really realizing it he heaved a sigh, leaning down to fetch the bottle from the machine. He had memories of retrieving his brother after fist fights in the earlier days of school, hauling him up by his arm after he'd chased off the bullies. Time and time again, as he pelted his brother with questions, Hiro would look at him curiously and tilt his head to the side before asking; "Hey, what are you doing, Tada-nii?"

And time and time again he would reply, "What am I- Hiro, those guys were-"

"It was just a little fight, big brother, don't be so fussy," he would say with a smile, "You're going to turn into Aunt Cass, you know." And his sibling would be so calm and collected every time that Tadashi honestly wondered if his brother thought this was all normal. Had Hiro adapted to this routine so thoroughly that he didn't even know that it was _wrong?_

Tadashi did everything he could to make his little brother feel better in those days and inventing had always been the key to success. Working his bottom lip between his teeth he unscrewed the cap to his bottle and took a swig as he turned on his heel.

When had Hiro started to cut?

It disturbed Tadashi that he couldn't remember a specific time in their lives where his little brother's actions could have indicated self-abuse.

Fiddling with the bottle cap he made his way back to his brother's hospital room.

He'd find a time to corner him when they were at home tomorrow. Force Hiro to tell him who had grabbed his arm and talk about those cuts before the police could get to him. They would make everything worse for sure. Their questions, no matter how gentle, would make Hiro close up and he wouldn't talk to anyone thereafter; then the culprits would get away clean.

And Tadashi couldn't let that happen.

_BOOM._

The strength of the blast was enough to shake the building all the way down to its foundations and Tadashi tumbled off his feet, propelled by the force of the wall crumbling beside him. Amongst shards of glass, metal window frames, and drywall a yelp of surprise streamed from his lips as he soared into the opposite wall, slamming his head against a water fountain.

Dazed, he lay in a heap on the floor with an odd, muffled buzzing in his ears.

_What? _He thought drowsily, _Who's there?_

Weak and quivering with the stress Tadashi lifted his head off the floor only to be thrown into a strong bout of dizziness. Groaning lowly he resisted the urge to rest his neck and struck out with his arm. He didn't realize how close he was to the wall until he slapped his wrist against it in his efforts to prop himself up against it. Distantly he could hear people shouting as he turned himself to face the decimated windows.

With some effort and a hand against his head, he squinted his eyes open and tried to take in the scene before him.

There was a man floating among the streaming flecks of snow.

A man in a black trench coat and a tribal kabuki mask on his face.

Something in his groggy brain clicked, images of Japanese demons swirling about his head from the fantastical tales his grandfather had spun when he was little. He recalled the fable, _The Man Who Stole A Dream,_ where a selfish individual named Hiki no Makibito got a puzzling dream read by a dream-reader in the Bitchū province. After receiving her interpretation of the occurrence he hid in the next room and watched her serve the governor's son, who was told he would soon become a minister at court. Once the governor's son left, Makibito came out of hiding and told the dream reader that he wanted to steal the governor's son's dream. He explained that because they were neighbors and would be for quite some time "she might as well be nice" to him and she agreed.

His greed led him to a terrible transformation; a foxish creature with a squat, white snout and black fur that shifted with the wind. His ears were trimmed with red and he could disguise himself as a normal human being. That night he crept into the son's room and tore out his dream, leaving the man as an empty shell behind him.*

Makibito stole the son's dream and became a minister instead. His greed led to famine, his thirst to slaughter, and soon the name Yokai no Makibito haunted the providence.

Tadashi's grandfather told him that it paid to keep your dreams to yourself because otherwise if they were stolen he would end up life-less and his family would be torn asunder. That had been the scariest story he'd ever heard from him before he passed away and for years Tadashi kept every strange dream he had to himself.

Even now he couldn't quite break the habit, knowing that it was just a story.

And yet, as he half-lay half-sat against the wall looking out at this creature that resembled the demon Makibito became, his mind spun a web. Snow danced restlessly and fanatically about the figure, dark tendrils swimming too and fro reached into the hall- reached for him. Panting, Tadashi scrabbled at the wall behind him, screams ringing in his ears either from the nurses, patients, or the wind- maybe all three.

He was trying to collect his head, to think clearly, to get out of this situation and return to safety, but the words slipped off his tongue before he could stop them, "Y-Yokai."

"Tadashi!" a familiar voice slapped him back to reality and he turned his head. Horror struck his heart, snapping a chord as he watched his little brother lurch towards him from the end of the hall at a breakneck pace. He shook himself and tried to stand as the masked figure moved closer, walking off a pillar of black steps towards him as the dark, whistling shadows stormed through the halls. He saw Hiro drop and screamed his little brother's name, desperation in his voice. Then a biting chill wrapped thickly around his throat and the cold, solid shadows lifted him by his neck.

He was slammed into the wall behind him viciously, a gasp ripped from his lungs. The shadows were sharp and nipped his felsh. If nothing else he knew there'd be a bruise left behind. Opening his eyes without ever having realized he'd closed them he lifted shaking hands and grasped the tendrils around his throat as the masked man leaned in. Blood rushed through his ears but his spinning vision started to settle and he was able to fully take in the mask half a foot away from his nose.

His sharp eyes were yellow and trimmed with red. Black and red streaks cut across the mask from tear duct to temple, highlighting a snarl and its cheek bones. There was no jaw to the intimidating facial decoration, making it seem even more inhuman. And monsters from his childhood danced in and out of Tadashi's mind like a storm.

The fear that grasped his heart was as thick as the mechanical extremities holding him against the wall and he choked, writhing desperately in the firm grip.

"Let go of him!" a familiar voice shouted and suddenly the man was thrown to the side. Tadashi tumbled down like a bottle of coke out of a vending machine and lay on the ground coughing for several moments, both hands wrapped protectively around his throat.

"Hiro! Tadashi?!" he recognized his aunt's voice from the other end of the hall and looked up to search for her, aches thrumming all over his body.

"No," he rasped, squeezing his eyes open, "_go!_"

It was at that moment, with his head tilted off the ground, breath streaming out in white plumes before his lips, the world coming in and out of focus, that he saw the figure standing over him.

It was definably short with green and black plaid pajama pants. A baggy gray T-shirt billowed around a lanky frame and a yellow bracelet around his wrist defined him as a patient. Tangles of black hair whipped this way and that already started to become littered with stubborn snowflakes.

"Hiro?" Tadashi gasped, breathless. Rubble blocked his vision of the intimidating creature his brother had thrown back.

Hiro stood over his big brother with a wide stance and his arms thrown out protectively, facing off against Yokai with fearlessness in every inch of his posture. There was a fuzzy exchange between the two of them, one Tadashi dizzily tried to understand only to end with failure.

"Tadashi," Hiro snapped suddenly, as though he'd been trying to get his attention for quite some time "Are you okay?"

The elder struggled to rise, "y-yeah, more or less." He would fight against this guy right alongside his little brother if he had to.

Suddenly a breathtaking scream erupted from in front of them, bloodcurdlingly loud and rising even above the howling winds. Both brother's turned to the source and met with the sight of a young brunette being yanking from her room. She screamed and twisted in the grip of what was starting to look like flickering metal. After a moment Tadashi recognized her as the girl he had seen with his brother yesterday, the one who had been dizzily staring into space.

A low curse rumbled out of Hiro's throat at the sight but before he could say another word a second scream rose above the din.

"Emmy!" a woman cried, barreling forward and racing towards her daughter. Hiro released a shout of dismay when a mass of black slammed into the squat, curly-haired woman. She was thrown through chairs and pieces of dry wall, landing in a crumpled heap meters away.

"Mother!" the young girl screamed, tears streaming down her face.

"Damnit all," Hiro snarled and leapt forward.

"Hiro!" Tadashi shouted, "wait!"

He reached for his younger brother but wasn't fast enough. Tadashi's head was still struggling to grasp the situation and he watched his little brother's back through a tunnel vision.

_He's getting farther away, _a young voice told him, _he's going away- you have to get him back!_

But his response time was too slow and by the time Tadashi was moving after his younger brother it was well beyond too late.

In his mental absence Hiro had managed to distract the figure momentarily and the masses of black crumpled to the ground- several grains tumbling out into the winds where they were lost. Parts of the building were falling now, debris landing centimeters away from his brother as he grabbed the girl from the beaded pile and took off.

He wasn't fast enough to escape.

As Yokai regained his composure the shadows- things he was beginning to realize resembled Hiro's microbots- reformed and lunged. With a glance, his little brother caught sight of their approach and turned to his elder.

"Tadashi," he shouted, "catch!"

Then he thrust his young cargo forwards, stumbling over fallen drywall before being yanked into the air. Instinctively, Tadashi stepped forwards and caught the unconscious brunette. With the little one in his arms he snapped his attention back to his baby brother.

"L-Let," Hiro began but broke into a fit of coughing.

_No, _Tadashi's eyes widened with horror as his little brother curled up as far as he was able to, watching as the microbots squeezed his sibling's chest in a crushing grip that strained his shirt and pushed against his flesh. There was an odd series of popping sounds and Hiro's resulting scream rent the air. The terrible, high-pitched, agonized sound cut through Tadashi's heart with such pain he would have grabbed his chest if he had a free hand.

"Hiro!" he shouted. Dizzy, eyes-half lidded, breath pluming in front of his mouth in short gusts, his little brother searched for him. When those drowsy brown eyes landed on his face, Tadashi did his best to clear away his fear. Trying to exude confidence he met Hiro's gaze and took a deep breath, "It's okay- It's okay_-_ just breath, alright? You got me? Deep breaths! That's all you gotta do, Otouto! I'm com-"

The tiniest of smiles quirked Hiro's lips and Tadashi's heart stopped in his chest. Panic ripped through him anew as he watched the spire of glittering, half-frozen blackness rise behind his _taisetsunahito.*_ Then, somehow everything stopped.

There was nothing.

There was nothing but his brother.

No howling winds.

No screaming.

No gunfire.

No snow.

Nothing.

Just the beat of his terrified heart and his little brother's beaming smile.

"I'm going on ahead, Nii-san, later-"

There was a crunching sound.

Hiro went limp.

Hiro's blood splashed against the floors.

Hiro was swallowed by the darkness.

Hiro, Hiro, Hiro-

Then the hallway was empty.

"_**HIRO!**_"

And Hiro was gone.

* * *

_*Sorry, I twisted the story. This isn't actually how it goes. In the original fable Makibito simply recites everything the governor's son did throughout his reading, gives the woman his cloak, and studies hard. Then he becomes a minister. _

_*Taisetsunahito – Precious one (Japanese)_

_How many of you would read this:_

_I've got this really cool AU idea that takes place two years after BH6 and Hiro goes out on some kind of educational trip funded by the school to a really intense robotics school in Europe. But the Japanese sabotage a few English power plants, blow up some hydroelectric dams, and screw some shit up and suddenly a bunch of people are dead caught in the crossfire. The English get pissed and now anyone who so much as looks Asian is threatened by violent protesters and people are being murdered and the police have to bring in reinforcements to deal with it and Hiro accidentally becomes and icon against the protests by protecting some children against frustrated soldiers armed with his backpack, the utilitarian clothes on his body, and a grocery bag under one arm. Then Tadashi wakes up from his coma and San Fransokyo starts to get news on it. After some time he gets into contact with Hero-Hiro and things only get more and more wild. _

_I might start it. But there is __**NO WAY **__I'll be able to finish it before my break is over…_

_Anyway, sorry for that long bit of nonsense!_

_O= love_

_X= stop._


	13. Kaze

"Guest chapter 10 . 22h ago

Thank you. Thank you so much for this story and for updating so often. I reach the end of my Christmas-retail shifts and think, 'Eibetsu might have updated. I'll need to check as soon as I get home.' On the rare occasions I have impulse control and actually save a chapter from the morning for after work, everything is better all day; I have an Eibetsu chapter to read; the world is good. So thank you."

_Oh, Sweety, let me hug you. I also work retail at a little, very popular toy store and the Christmas season is such a hard time. Keep going, you can do it! Drink lots of milk and binge on chocolate chip cookies! Know you're making a difference in someone else's life by working hard through the season and never give up on yourself, got it? I'm so happy that my story is able to provide you some distraction. (I'd say reprieve but things are getting intense so it's probably stressful. ;) )_

* * *

_I FEEL LIKE EVERYONE PULLED OUT MEGAPHONES FOR THEIR REVIEWS. SSSSHHHHH. Goodness me, I don't think I've ever encountered so many reviews so capable of stressing me to the moon and back! [Please have mercy. ;_; ]_

_**No. I am not going to take out Taisetsunahito and change it for you. **_

_**Stop.**_

* * *

-Chapter 13-

\- 風 -

\- Kaze -

_[Tadashi]_

There were arms around his shoulders, tangled and woven across his chest. People were grunting behind him as he strained forwards, the wind whipping angrily, forcefully at his hair. He was staring out into the abyss of black and white and gray, searching feverishly for his baby brother.

"Hiro-!" he choked out.

"Sir, please- you must calm down!"

"_No!_" Tadashi screamed, "No, _please, please, please- _he's my baby brother! _**Please!**_"

"Sir!"

"He's going to fall over the edge!"

"Tadashi- stop it!"

"_He's all I've got left!"_ tears were streaming shamelessly down his face as he struggled to chase after his little brother. The droplets got colder and colder the closer to his chin they became before they were ripped away by the winds and the chill. "He's all I've got left, please! **Please! **Don't- don't take my little brother from me!"

"Sedate him!"

"Tadashi, honey, you have to calm down!"

But Tadashi could barely comprehend the voices dancing around him. He could barely comprehend anything. The one thing in his life that kept him grounded, the one thing that was always there, was suddenly gone.

And suddenly he didn't know what to do.

There was a sharp prick in his neck and his body was suddenly no longer under his control. Something soft pressed into his wrist and the arms around him loosened as his knees buckled. Someone was counting, a soft rubbing motion soothed his neck, hands grabbed his head and for the first time he noticed his own blood leaking from a wound on his scalp. But he didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

He didn't care.

"No," he moaned miserably, voice fading, "Please, he's all I've got left… we're all we've got…please."

He was pulled back away from the shattered glass and broken hope, laid on a gurney with his Aunt hovering above him in the smoke. Something petit and warm grabbed his hand firmly, soothing words murmured above him.

"We'll get him back, Tadashi," she was saying, "Sssh, it's okay- we're going to get him back."

"Everything's going to be okay."

Tadashi didn't know if he should believe her or not.

* * *

_[?]_

He could smell the freshness of the Earth, the vibrato of rocks tumbling around him, the cold dampness clamped on his nose and fingers. He could hear the soft shuffle of microbots, squeaking and clacking together all around him. He could feel a chill on his cheeks, his hands, his feet, and a warmth around the rest of his body. He could taste blood in his mouth, smoke, rain, and plaster tickling his taste buds.

Then came feeling and it almost made him scream.

Along his lower left side there was a pulsing sensation, throbbing pain rippling through his small frame. Aches tearing through his chest with every breath, his dizzy brain attempted unsuccessfully to comprehend the situation.

His entire body felt swollen and inflamed and bleeding. His head was screaming like a child riding a dizzying roller coaster. His lungs were contracting and no matter how hard he fought he couldn't get a clear breath.

He was cold.

He was hurt.

And he was alone.

_Tadashi?_

* * *

_[8:23 AM]_

When he woke up the first thing that struck Tadashi was how much his head hurt. It felt like having an iron ball rolling around inside his skull, so heavy it left trailing bruises along the soft tissue in its wake. He sniffed and crinkled his eyes, trying to open them against the blaring white light that assaulted his vision. Groggily, he brought up his hand, intending to put his fingers against his temple to ward off the ache only to find a pulse ox meter wrapped around his index digit.

_What- _

"Yes- yes, ok," his eyes now open, Tadashi searched the room for his Aunt and found her standing at the door with her back to him. "That's really not-" she paused, "Well, if you insist…" she swallowed, pressing a hand against her diaphragm, "yes, okay, thank you Honey. Yes, we'll meet you at the café when we're done. Yes, thank you, see you then." Then she was putting her phone away.

"Aunt Cass?" he asked, voice still slightly husky. His aunt jerked somewhat and turned to him with wide eyes, "What's going on?"

She didn't answer him at first, instead opting to throw herself at him. "Oh my god, you're awake! Tadashi, honey, how do you feel? Are you alright? Tell me you're okay!" Her arms wrapped around him and Tadashi realized he was lying on a half elevated bed when she didn't have to bend down.

"W-woah," he chuckled, trying to drive off the feeling of wrongness in his heart, "Hey, I'm fine." At the confusion and the warmth in his voice Aunt Cass pulled away and looked into his eyes, her concern only elevated.

"Tadashi," she began but he was already looking around the room. He was in the hospital, judging by the loose fitting hospital gown he'd been given, the white walls, curtains, and floors and the-

The blue and white pinstriped sheets…

Why was that familiar…?

"Aunt Cass," he started, his headache threatening to worsen, "Hey, where's Hiro?"

Concern welled up in her eyes and she reached for him, fingers gently landing on the bandages around his head, "What do you remember, Tadashi?"

He swallowed thickly, furrowing his brow and trying to put himself back together. Gosh, his head ached. Running a hand through his hair Tadashi set himself to thinking, trying to remember what had happened.

He'd gotten in trouble for taking Hiro on a piggyback ride around the sick ward. Hiro had laughed at him when he'd woken up then they'd all had dinner and gone to bed. Tadashi remembered waking up the next day and eating breakfast with Aunt Cass while Dr. Hanami checked on Hiro- who was still sleeping. After attempting to do homework for the better part of 3 hours he'd gone out to get a drink.

Then there was an exp-

He stiffened, the memories flying through him with such gusto he would have been thrown off his feet if he'd been standing up.

Then he reached out and grabbed his aunt, terror in his eyes, "Aunt Cass, where's Hiro?!"

There were tears in her eyes and she tightened her lips, seeming to know that there was no real need to say anything, "Tadashi," she whispered.

But he was already shaking his head and kicking off the sheets, "I want to see him."

"Sweetie," she began and didn't try to stop him. Tadashi assumed it was because the doctors had cleared him while he had been out of it. Judging from what he'd overheard he could go home whenever. He yanked the pulse ox meter off his finger and surged forwards, the strings of his gown trailing behind him. "Tadashi," her voice was more firm this time and she grabbed his shoulder, pulling her nephew away from the door, "listen to me, young man-"

"I can't," he gasped, "I can't- not when Hiro could be-"

"He's not dead!" she finally shouted, small tears glittering down her face as Tadashi froze in place, "Now sit your butt on that bed and let me _explain_." Surprised but hopeful he did as he was told and listened to his aunt's reassurances. Apparently he'd hit his head pretty hard on a drinking fountain so he was rather confused throughout the whole ordeal. Yesterday the hospital had been attacked by a strange man who had stolen Hiro's microbots and was using them to search the hospital. No-one was sure who he was but it had been rather clear throughout the battle that he'd been searching for something in particular.

Actually, it was more like _someone. _

He'd baited Hiro with numerous hostages and Tadashi blearily remembered being one of them. Someone closer to the occurrence, a patient from one of the rooms across from the broken windows, had heard an exchange between his brother and the masked man while he had lain across the floor struggling to recuperate.

"They said the man in the Kabuki mask wanted Hiro to build something for him. When Hiro refused he'd used that girl- Emmy- to lure him closer and that was when he kidnapped him," his aunt wrung her hands together, "He used Hiro's microbots to capture him and," she swallowed, "knocked him out with them." Tadashi thought his aunt was ready to cry and he was right, watching the tears thicken as they streamed down her face.

But he didn't dare to touch her- oh no, not with that expression. Fury raged through Aunt Cass's eyes and she pulled at her hands so hard her knuckles popped, "that monster hurt my nephew even when he clearly didn't need to and if I find him there won't be anything left of him!" Tadashi's eyes were wide- he'd never seen his Aunt so mad before. Just moments ago he'd selfishly felt like he was the one who needed the reassurance but now he knew better and hesitantly reached for her. They both needed to stay calm if they wanted to get Hiro back.

"Hey," he said gently, meeting her eyes, "We'll find him."

His aunt aggressively slapped the bed sheets, "We'd better! Now come on- the police are going to meet us at the house before dinner today and your friends are already there."

Tadashi blinked, confused at that while his aunt stood and grabbed his clothes out of a bag beside the bed. She pushed them into his arms, wiping her tears away as she headed for the other side of the room. He pulled his clothes on while his aunt tore a bag of peppermints out of her purse- presumably the ones he'd picked up from the gift shop on ground floor some days ago.

That was when he remembered the professor and he couldn't help himself.

"Hey, Aunt Cass?" he began, wiggling into his freshly washed shirt and pulling his cap on.

"Gwah?" she asked around a mouthful of peppermints, chewing on them furiously. Looking over Tadashi caught her with her cheeks rounded and found himself wondering just how much that must sting.

"Is Professor Callaghan ok?" His shoulders sagged when the woman stiffened and looked sad once again.

It took a little bit before her mouth was clear enough to elaborate and by that time Tadashi was dressed and ready to go. Together they gathered up their things and walked out the door.

"He was also taken by the man in the Kabuki mask," she told him softly, running a hand across his shoulder and giving him a reassuring hug, "But don't worry, it's just as you said. We're going to find both of them." He nodded a little shakily and let her lead the way to the receptionist's desk. As she got them checked out Tadashi's eyes wandered, landing on a nearby window.

The driving snow had fallen into a calmer state last night while he had been unconscious and now drowsy flakes of snow drifted to the ground. He was grateful for that because it meant people would be clearing the roads and looking for Hiro would become easier. More than ever he was grateful to have friends at his side and he looked forward to getting home and talking with them- though he didn't intend on letting them get into anything dangerous at all.

"Alright, I hope you feel better," the receptionist's voice caught his attention and he looked down, "Take it easy. We like you but we don't want to see you back in bed, understood?" She smiled at him and he couldn't help but provide a small grin in return.

"Thank you so much for your help," Aunt Cass began, fiddling with a bag of brownie-cookies.

"No problem. Have a good day you two."

With that they headed to the elevator and headed down. It was as they entered Tadashi noticed the floor they were on; two stories above Hiro's. A compulsive part of him wanted to ask if it was safe to have patients still in the hospital after yesterday but he bit his tongue and decided he'd just see for himself. As the doors closed he threw out his hand and jabbed the numbered floor before his aunt could do anything.

"Tadashi-" she began, nibbling on her cookies.

"I just want to see," he promised, "I'm worried about the stability of the floor." Well, it was a half-truth.

His aunt didn't comment on it and simply settled beside him with her head held high (still stuffing brownies in her face and looking remarkably less regal because of it). They waited in silence interrupted only by elevator music.

Thinking on it he shouldn't have been surprised to find the familiar halls covered in crime scene tape and the floors crawling with people in police uniforms. The second he stepped out of the elevator he was approached by an elder, port-bellied officer.

"Hey," he called, "Wait a minute, you two can't be here."

"My brother was one of the people taken last night," Tadashi quickly informed him, stopping only because the bushy haired man stood directly in front of him.

"He's my nephew," Aunt Cass explained firmly, moving in front of Tadashi and pulling out her ID. She quickly hid her brownie-cookies and waited for the officer to process this information as Tadashi quietly slipped away. She held up a hand and shooed him away when he looked back at her, quickly pulling it down when the portly individual looked back up and began speaking.

"Ok, I understand that, ma'am," he began, "but this is a crime scene. This doesn't change the fact that you can't be here-" At that his aunt snapped at him and Tadashi knew he was covered for the foreseeable future.

Striding through the hall- picking up an FBI jacket and tucking it over him arm as he passed- trying to look like he belonged there he held himself firmly.

He lurched to a halt at the doorway to the room Hiro had been staying in. Clenching his jaw and swallowing a ball of nervousness he couldn't stop himself from glancing over and his eyes stung at the sight of the empty bed- still ruffled with the wrinkles his little brother had made before his mad dash. He could imagine the younger scrambling and fighting against the sheets in a rush to get to the source of the commotion. He could _remember _his younger brother scrambling and fighting against the sheets in a rush to get to him last week; when Tadashi's dinner had blown up in the microwave during his nap.

A small smile touched his lips and he continued on, dodging around officers and trying not to pay the various looks he got any mind. He reached the end of the hall and turned right, where he then stopped in his tracks.

Dry plaster, melting snow, frozen shards of glass and metal littered the area. Men and women in orange construction worker suits shifted about the rubble, cleaning up what they could. His eyes caught sight of the drinking fountain he had run into. A wince twitched across his face at the sight of the dent in the side of the fountain.

He continued to scan everything, searching for some kind of clue but ultimately wasn't able to find anything particularly helpful.

"Oi," an unfamiliar voice shouted at him and he turned, "Who are you?" A short woman with brown hair pulled back into a braid approached him quickly.

Caught off guard Tadashi struggled to compose himself for a brief moment. "Hey," he said after a pause, "Do you have-" he began to ask but she interrupted him and yanked the jacket from under his arm.

"What are you doing with my jacket, civilian?" she demanded brusquely and Tadashi almost flinched at the irritation in her voice, "Get out of here, we're working." The woman grabbed his wrist and began pulling him away, ignoring his jumbled protests. As he was led away he caught sight of a pool of blood on the ground and the awkward smile on his face vanished.

It was splattered across the dirty floor in a rush, streaks of crimson thrown out from thick globules of red in an arch across the ground. While Tadashi knew there wasn't enough there to be lethal, he still felt a tightness grip his heart.

Hiro was wounded and in the hands of a madman, confused, sick, and alone-

_No_, he thought after a moment, _he's got Professor Callaghan with him. Together they'll be okay…_

_They have to be…_

* * *

_But no, seriously, I can't even understand half of the reviews I've received because they are so frantically garbled._

_A lot of you seem to think you have everything figured out about this story- specifically, Hiro's "cutting"..._

_O= yes._

_X= pack your bags and go. (but no sarcasm. Like, really pack up and leave.)_


	14. Atataka

-Chapter 14-

\- 暖か -

-Atataka-

* * *

_[10:30 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Sitting in the cab of Aunt Cass's pick-up truck he let himself rest his chin on his knuckles, hazy eyes locked with the dribble of snow outside the window. His breath fogged up the glass periodically but he didn't bother to wipe it away and clear the view. He already knew what was on the other side anyway.

After getting chased off Hiro's floor with several lingering shouts of disproval from the officers he and his aunt had scuttled off into the truck and spent about 20 minutes shoveling off snow drifts. They'd even had to loan a few ice scrapers from the front desk before they could even open the driver's side door.

Now, slumped in the truck and feeling more exhausted than ever, Tadashi let his mind wander. Usually it wouldn't take them much longer than 15 minutes to get to the café from the emergency center but with the amount of snow on the street it was going to take about 25 so he'd settled in. While it was clear that some cleaning crews had started clearing away walls of snow the roads weren't totally clear of the massive blockades just yet.

The good news, at least, was that it meant they were the only ones driving around.

"Tadashi?" Aunt Cass's voice interrupted the silence and he looked up. She glanced at him briefly. "Are you alright over there?"

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, "Yeah, I'm just tired."

His aunt didn't look terribly convinced, however. Her brows were furrowed, lips pursed together if only slightly- her whole face gave the bubbly café owner away.

"Hey," he said, sitting up straighter, "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Tadashi was pleased to see a grin bloom across her face, needing no other reply thereafter.

They spent the remainder of the ride in silence.

When they arrived at the café someone had flipped the lights and Wasabi was clearly holding Fred away from a box of glazed donuts. Above them the shop's bell rang its announcement and as he entered Tadashi was hit in the face by a powerful gust of warmth quickly followed by an equally powerful Honey Lemon.

"Tadashi!" she squealed, "I was so worried- are you okay? Do you need me to make you some tea? I'll have Gogo turn on a pot-" in spite of himself Tadashi laughed, letting his friend pull away before he replied.

"I'm _fine, _Honey," he smiled somewhat wearily. Before he could try to say anything else Aunt Cass spoke up.

"Why don't you lot head upstairs and find somewhere more comfortable to sit. I'm sure it'll be warmer up there. I'll bring up some cookies in a bit."

"You sure you don't want any help?" Tadashi asked.

"Yeah, we'd love to!" Fred piped up still struggling to get the back of his shirt out from around Wasabi's tight grip.

"For the last time, Fred," Gogo began, popping her gum in a show of impatience.

"Oh, please," Aunt Cass scoffed, "I'll bring a few up, it's on me. Now, off you go!" She made a shooing gesture with her hands.

"_Yes!_" the blond cried victoriously, "Free food!"

"Dude, you get free food all the time at your place. Don't you?" Wasabi asked, the pitch of his voiced raised slightly.

Tadashi led the way up the stairs, aware that his friends were already doing what they could to cheer him up. Due to the narrowness of the stairwell they had to walk in a single file line and with the café's resident in the lead he couldn't see the exchanges made behind him.

"So," Honey Lemon began when they reached the landing, "how are Baymax's upgrades coming along?"

A loud meow from Mochi welcomed the college students into the living room as he replied, "There's a lot of work to do still, but I think they're coming along as best as circumstances could let them." He said, setting his bags down by the couch and trying not to let his eyes linger on the three chairs set around the table. Despite himself he must have been staring a little too long because Gogo came up behind him and slapped him on the back before collapsing onto the couch.

"So," he heard Wasabi start, sounding unsure of himself.

With a smile on his face Tadashi turned to him, sitting with his friends on the couch, "Hm?"

Commiseration welling up in her eyes, Honey Lemon reached out and gently touched his arm, "Tadashi, we're here for you if you want to talk." Behind her Fred nodded sagely and Gogo watched expectantly. Realizing that they wanted an explanation Tadashi let his shoulders sag and leaned back into the couch, running his hands over his face.

"It's a long story," he said, sounding muffled.

In the distance, probably at the base of the stairs leading to the room he shared with his brother, he heard Mochi meow again. He was louder this time but Tadashi had long ago gotten used to the various sounds that erupted from the feline.

"Hey, we're not going anywhere," Fred pointed out, his smile turning from exuberant to gentle.

And yet still Tadashi deliberated, not sure where he should start. After some moments he began, slowly at first, then picking up some speed and confidence as he dragged on. He filled in as many blanks as he could; told them about Hiro's attack early on Saturday morning and his delivery to the ER later that day. He told them about the tenacity of his little brother's condition and the roller coaster ride they had all been dragged on, weaving through ups and downs as Hiro had fought against his illness. Aunt Cass came in just before he could describe their unprecedented departure and jumped to provide her explanation of what happened and how scared she'd been to find her youngest nephew's bed empty. There were a few tentative smiles as Mochi continued his hollering in the background.

But all the smiles were gone when they got to the finalé and the room was suddenly clouded with a morose air. It was mostly Aunt Cass that provided the details to that one with Tadashi occasionally filling in some detail or hole that she missed.

For several minutes after their story's end the only sound to be heard was the various demanding mews that floated around the apartment.

Then Aunt Cass was setting out cups of tea and Tadashi was looking out at the snow, wondering if his brother was in it, wondering how cold he was and how much pain he might be in.

He put the tea cup down.

"_Me__**OW!**_" Mochi screamed, finally fed up with being ignored. A small smile of amusement tickled his cheeks and he looked up with the rest of his family and friends.

"I'll g-" Aunt Cass began before a familiar vocoder interrupted the silence from above.

"Hello. I am Baymax. Your personal health-care companion," Tadashi jerked with surprise and his friends exchanged looks of shy amusement. Except for Gogo, who just quirked her lips. "I was alerted by a cry of; distress," Baymax continued and a hurried squeaking followed Mochi down the stairs.

"Hold on," Tadashi said and stood up, his robot's voice getting ever closer.

"On a scale of one to ten-" the bot was trying to ask as he waddled after Mochi. The irritable feline slipped between Tadashi's legs like water around a rock and the college student held up his hands just in time to catch his project before he could stumble off the steps.

"Woah, easy there buddy," he said, "what are you doing up?"

In hindsight it was sort of a stupid question.

"I heard a cry of; distress," his bot repeated. Then tilted his head and gave his creator a cursory once-over. Seeming to realize there wasn't much point in attempting to convince his robotics project to go back (and not really wanting him to for some reason) Tadashi let Baymax trail behind him as he returned to the sofa. "Tadashi, I have detected excess amounts of corticotrophin-releasing hormones in your body. There is also a slight swelling on the left side of your skull, although it is purely epidermal. You have already been treated with; amitriptyline-" before his loyal creation could continue on Tadashi patted his arm.

"That's okay, Baymax," I've already been given the whole speech. He sat down with a slight huff and resisted the urge to rest his head on the back of the sofa.

"Hey, big guy," Wasabi greeted, "How have you been doing?"

"My systems are functioning at optimal capacity and my battery is fully charged," Baymax reported, turning his attention to the other occupants of the couch. "But my scans detect that Tadashi is experiencing; sadness. Similar results surface from each of you as well. Would you like my assistance?"

He scrambled to refuse, knowing well that Baymax's program was still a little glitchy when it came to mental illnesses.

Fred got to it first, "Yes, I know, yes!" he thrust his hand into the air and jumped up and down eagerly. Aunt Cass looked amused and Gogo raised an eyebrow. Wasabi leaned back a little to avoid being slapped in the face and a big grin burst across Honey Lemon's expression. Baymax blinked at the comic-nerd who demanded, "play a funny video!"

"Fred," Tadashi sighed, trying to smile as his robot got to work searching his data base, "I haven't loaded Baymax with any-"

"I have found a video filed under the category you have mentioned. It is titled: _Hamada Brothers- aka; JFC Tadashi_. Shall I play it?"

Oh no, Tadashi recognized that title, "No- wait!"

"Yeah!" Fred hollered louder than the robotics genius could hope to compete with.

"Playing video," Baymax announced and, recognizing the inevitability of this cumbersome situation, Tadashi slapped a palm against his face. Also knowing what this video entailed, Aunt Cass stood and headed for the light switch.

Moments after they were plunged into darkness the video began and he could feel his friends lean forwards in their seats to see it.

White bold text appeared at the bottom of the screen to provide a date and time. It was 2:31 AM, 5 and a half years ago.

Then Tadashi's face showed up in the center of the screen, looking only younger with the exhaustion in his eyes and his hair disarray.

Honey let out a high pitched squee and shook his arm, "eee, look at how _cute _you are!"

"_Okay, so, it is 2 in the morning,"_ the younger Tadashi said with a yawn, rubbing his eyes, _"and I wake up to use the bathroom and see something wrong with Hiro's bed_." The camera moved, clicking as his fingers fell over various buttons, until it was facing his little brother's bed.

His little brother's _empty _bed.

"_So obviously Hiro's off on some excursion,"_ he said to his audience, _"I don't think he's slept for two days and when an 9-year-old is sleep deprived interesting things happen."_

Real-time Tadashi slapped a hand against his face but couldn't fight off the slight quirk of his lips. Hiro had threatened some time ago to put together a bunch of video evidence of his older brother being a "lil' shit" to prove his respecting friends' theories incorrect. They joked and said that Tadashi had probably been an A student his entire life, that he'd never done any wrong to anyone before.

Hiro had decidedly disagreed.

"_That little brat says he has blackmail on me,"_ the camera turned towards the stairs, _"well, let's get some on him."_ Through the slits of his fingers Tadashi watched the image totter down the stairs and into the kitchen. He watched his hand reach out and grab a glass. He watched himself fill it up.

"You're not doing what I think you're doing, are you?" Wasabi asked, unsure if he should be nervous or amused. Gogo straightened just a little more, seeming to think the same thing.

"_I'll show you what happens when you get Mochi to pee on my bed," _his younger self muttered and a small giggle erupted from Honey's throat. She quickly slapped her hands over her mouth and glanced at the Japanese-American beside her. Aunt Cass simply had a very amused expression on her face.

She remembered this one.

Together they all watched as Tadashi's camera jangled down the stairs, out the back, and then into the garage. The lighting was dim when he entered but there was enough to see with.

Particularly, there was enough to make out the figure curled tightly into the couch. For a split second the image faltered, as though it hadn't been able to find its target. Then it zoomed in on Hiro's small form. Tadashi's smile fell a bit at the sight of his younger brother.

Honey's hands were practically stuffed into her mouth she was trying so hard not to squeal.

The first thing his older brother noticed was how healthy he looked. His cheeks had a rosy tint that streaked across his face and ended at the tips of his ears and his skin wasn't as pale as the moon. Hiro only made himself appear even smaller, wrapped tightly as he was in a blanket with no vulnerable extremities sticking out anywhere. Everything about him looked entirely relaxed and it felt so nice to know that it was all completely natural. The planes of his face smooth, mouth open only slightly, nose occasionally twitching, eyes sometimes flickering behind his lids, Hiro hummed something and nuzzled the sheets. Tadashi could have watched that little lump breathe for hours.

But this younger Tadashi hadn't quite developed that patience just yet and set the camera down on the arm rest.

"Oh my god- he's actually going to do it, _dude!_" Fred cried, watching as Tadashi searched under the blankets for Hiro's wrist.

"Wow," Gogo commented, popping her gum, "Your little brother's right, you _are _a shit."

"Just wait and see what happens next," Aunt Cass hushed them.

"Oh no," Tadashi muttered, watching as his younger self finally located his little brother's wrist and pulled it out. Then he grabbed the glass of water and was towing Hiro's hand towards it. Just before he could dip it in, however, the younger leapt up, grabbed the cup, and threw his blanket over the elder with a furious battle cry.

"_Waaaarrghhh!" _Hiro cried, covering his brother's head with the blanket and then latching onto him to hold it in place.

"_H-Hiro?! What are you doing?!"_ Tadashi grunted, _"Get off!" _

"_No, dragon-butt!"_ Fred had a little giggle at that, _"I shall vanquish thee!"_

"_Gah- What?!"_

The two stumbled out of view just as Hiro dumped the lukewarm water over his brother's head and younger Tadashi unleashed a sharp scream of surprise.

"_Oh my god- did you just _pee _on me?!"_

There was frantic shuffling, thumping, laughter, and then Aunt Cass bellowed from above, _"__**boys! Gotosleep!**_"

That's when the video cut off and his friends threw themselves back laughing.

"I was not expecting that to happen!" Wasabi laughed, covering his face.

"You honestly deserved that one," Gogo chuckled, punching his shoulder.

Honey finally unleashed her squeal and wrapped her arms around him, "Oh my gosh, you two were so cute!"

Fred just laughed, "he reminds me of this kid from one of my comics! Tadashi, you're little brother is the best!"

"Yeah," Tadashi smiled as the room quieted and Honey delivered a disapproving glare to the younger, "he is…"

"Would you like me to continue with the video?" Baymax asked. This time everyone looked at him, letting the elder Hamada brother decide. He took only a brief moment to think about it before he nodded, smiling.

_We're going to get him back, _he thought with determination stoked like the flames in a forge.

"Sure Baymax."

For the next few hours they remained like that, just witling the time away by watching family movies.

They watched a video of Hiro sitting in his chair looking at the camera in complete silence before a large _vroom _and a _bang _and a series of fowl cursing erupted from below the window. Then Tadashi's voice howled up at him, "_Hiro Hamada did you put fucking thrusters on my moped?!_" To which the younger brother had replied with a fit of giggles that made Honey coo.

They watched Tadashi feverishly looking for his brother at 20 only to find 13-year-old literally stuck to the ceiling and appearing very unamused by his predicament.

They watched all the jokes-

"_Hey Tadashi, wanna hear a joke that will knock your cock off?" _

"_Um, sure?"_

"…_uh'oh, looks like you already heard it."_

"_Hiro!" – _all the pranks, and all the experiments gone wrong-

_Boom!_

"_-Gack- What happened?!"_

"_I don't know. Maybe you lit lithium metal on fire and put it in a glass of water." _

"_Oh. Right."_

And by the end of it Tadashi felt better than he had in days.

_Maybe Baymax isn't as inefficient as I thought…_

* * *

_I thought that fluff was needed. :)_

_As usual, O= love_

_X= hate_


	15. Hokaku

_I'll make a prediction: No-one expected this. :)_

-Chapter 15-

\- 捕獲 -

-Hokaku –

_[?]_

_[Hiro]_

Waking up had been difficult before but now it was nigh impossible. His head hurt worse than ever, with each beat his heart shuddered through a six inch long nail was driven into the back of his skull. Every breath he dared to take was like a punch to the gut and his entire body was a quivering mess of moaning aches that made him long for the bliss of sleep.

A long dismayed groan tumbled from his parted lips and got lost in the mass of blankets he was wrapped in. Feeling a chill he snuggled up into the cozy nest and tried to tuck his fists under his chin only to be met with a startling jerk and a stinging pain around his wrists. Confused, Hiro dared to open his eyes.

He was immediately assaulted by a wall of vibrant color. Reds, oranges, browns, peaches, all woven between threads of black and stitching a design he couldn't discern with this position. The blanket smelt of spices and smoke. It tickled his nose and almost made him sneeze.

_What? _Hiro thought, blinking groggily, _what is this? _Leaning back against an uneven surface he withdrew his hands from the nest he'd been wrapped in and located the cuffs around his wrists. Fighting panic he followed the chains into the wall behind him, _where am I?_

The room around him was cold, damp, and completely empty. Thick, bland, concrete walls caged him in from all sides and the musky scent of mold perfumed the air. Bright fluorine powered lights hung overhead and a door loomed from the farthest right.

Swallowing, he pulled against the binds, trying to find a point of weakness. Though the movement stressed his already weak muscles Hiro wasn't about to admit defeat and shifted, moving out from under the blankets and kicking them away with his feet. He was pleased at least to see himself still in his pajamas. Yet, at the same time he longed desperately for his khakis.

If only he could get his picks…

Hiro struggled with his irons for several minutes, only stopping when the door rattled. Glancing worriedly at the aperture he reached for the blankets. If he could feign sleep he might figure out who had caught him, get a grasp of the situation he was stuck in... Fumbling the teen wasn't coordinated enough to be as fast as he wanted and before he could completely cover himself two figures stepped into the room.

He hardly noticed the second man, however.

Only one had his attention.

Familiar wrinkles formed aged smile-lines on the old man's face. Graying hair was slicked back, not a single strand was out of place. Sparkling brown eyes observed him with a twinkle that was far more malicious than it had ever been- than he had ever _expected _it to be. He held a cane in his left hand and a grin on face, the crow's feet around his eyes deep.

"_F-Ferdinand?!_" he choked, deeply disturbed by the elderly man's apparent betrayal. He'd always been so kind to him in the morning, always so full of that old-folk brand of humor that you secretly never got tired of. Had this man, this wonderful soul he'd come to appreciate as a close friend and maybe even substitute grandfather for the one he'd lost before his memory, really been the one to orchestrate his capture?

"Hey, kiddo," Ferdinand's soft voice replied and the sly smirk on the old conductor's face thickened, "it's good to see you doing better." He strode to Hiro's side with more vigor and strength than he had ever displayed before. A little voice in the back of his head told the teen that he needed to get away from him _right now_. But his body wouldn't listen to him and he was left frozen like his entire body had been wrapped in chains. Hiro watched as the little old man that had been so kind to him every morning for so long crouched in front of him. "How do you feel?" his captor asked, the grin on his face oh-so-terribly deceiving as he squatted with a certain flexibility that no 70-year-old man should have ever been capable of displaying.

It was all the younger could do to stare in shock. He watched as Ferdinand reached for the blanket and lifted it up with a disapproving tsk, "What on earth were thinking, boy. You'll catch a chill!" Gently and with so much care, the old conductor tucked the blanket around Hiro like he was his grandson, "I love this blanket- can you tell it's as old as I am? My nephew got it from a Guatemalan man visiting San Fransokyo for a bot fight."

"No way," Hiro finally found his voice, moving away from the man and shaking his head, "No, I paid out my debt!" His voice raised and the figure standing at the door shifted. But he still wasn't quite worthy of his captive's attention. Locked in Hiro's sights was the tattoo scarred across Ferdinand's wrist. It was of a blooming tulip with a thick black line bisecting it vertically down the wrist, cutting its petals in half and scaring the beauty.

He recognized it with gory familiarity.

A laugh bubbled up out Ferdinand's throat, one that would have been contagious at any other point, "Perhaps you did- those scars under your arms prove that." He reached forwards and Hiro stiffened, watching with narrowed eyes. Trying to twitch away he clamped his arms down but the mob boss was much stronger than he'd ever been and soon he had wrestled the weak teen's wrists far above his head. Yanking the hem of his nightshirt up he exposed the scars with a sharp caustic smile. He didn't touch them but his gaze was burning.

"Sto- get off of me!" Hiro snarled, wiggling underneath him.

"Oh, stop your squirming!" Ferdinand barked angrily and despite himself the teen flinched, slowing before he could resist the urge. He quickly returned to his struggles however, not about to accept defeat. It didn't seem to matter though. "Ah yes," he continued, "it was one cut for every 100 yen short you were that day, wasn't it?"

"You bastard-" the younger Japanese-American hissed. Abruptly Ferdinand lowered his nightshirt and struck out with one gnarled hand, pressing his fingers against his captive's throat. Suddenly unable to breath Hiro jerked back, pressing himself up against the wall and glaring with more heat than hell could muster at a man he felt foolish for trusting.

"Now, little fella, that's very rude of you," he was told, chains rattling as the young college student fought to pull his hands forward and push his larger counterpart away.

It was just as black spots began to flutter across his vision, vicious dizziness mutating his perception of the world, and pressure began building in his head that a gloved hand landed on Ferdinand's shoulder and he pulled away with an aggressive vein throbbing along his temple, "Don't forget how important it is that you show your elder's respect, kiddo."

Hiro wasn't really listening though, bent forward with his knees against his chest and gasping like it was the first time he'd had breath in years.

Ferdinand stood up then and straightened his pin-striped blue suit, "My friend and I have a proposition for you, Hiro. We want you to make something for us." From his position curled up into a ball on the ground he glared up at him, brown eyes narrowed and raging with a fire that seemed to please Ferdinand explicitly, "You, young man, are going to use that big brain of yours to make us a something that can move matter instantly through space." He leaned forward on his cane and watched expectantly.

Hiro's lip curled into a snarl, "Te-telepor-portation?"

Ferdinand clapped his hands as though the teen had made a brilliant discovery, "that's exactly right! See, I knew he was smart!" It took him a moment to figure out that he wasn't the one being addressed and he switched his gaze to a slightly less familiar face.

Black trench coat.

Black gloves.

Black clothes.

Cold, impersonal Kabuki mask.

"_You!" _Hiro rasped. If possible he could feel even more hate well up in him. He received no acknowledgment from the man- as it must have been judging from his build. The figure leaned onto his right leg but never turned his head away from the teen he had chained to a wall. Clearing his throat with a small, fleshy, sucking sound, Hiro spat out his answer, "What if I refuse?"

A disappointed frown formed on Ferdinand's face and he popped his polished dress-shoe into Hiro's side.

"I wouldn't advise doing so," he said. Wild agony split the area and curled through his entire body. A scream wrenched itself from his mouth and the younger soul ripped against his shackles in his attempt to reach the wounded area with his hands. But the crushing, maddening, inflamed pain pulsed and throbbed and didn't work itself down until he was near passing out again. _By the time I get out of here I'm going to have brain damage, _he thought gasping.

When it was over he lay limply, panting and desperately biting back short moans with each wheezy breath he took. Hiro hardly heard the sound of Ferdinand's voice, no longer soothing in its dulcet, archaic tones. The elder said something about giving him a few hours to chew on his answer but with his ears still ringing he couldn't be too sure on that measurement.

"No," he ground out, the words heavy and painful and certain, "I'll nev-ever do anything f-for yo-uach."

To silence him Ferdinand stepped on his neck, pushing him against his chains until globules of blood ran from his wrists. "Hiro," he began, voice low with disapproval, "don't make me bring your brother in here." The younger froze then, stuck under his metal tipped shoe, pale-faced and horrified.

"W-what?"

Ferdinand reached into his pocket and pulled out a Cuban cigar, "We could just as easily take him as we took you, _little fella_. So I suggest you watch your _step_," he ground his heel against his victim smugly.

He felt so hurt in so many ways. From the inside out a pain unlike any he'd felt in his life ripped through him and it was all he could do not to cry and scream, and thrash against it all. _I _trusted _you!_ his heart howled, _Why are you hurting me, why, why, why?! Don't you know you're one of the only friends I've ever had? _As he had been up until now Hiro tried to convert his sadness into anger but he couldn't- not anymore.

Choking the littlest Hamada lay unmoving; he no longer had the energy to avoid the older individual's abuse. Curled up as best as he could he closed his eyes and forced himself to attain a softer posture. It was a moment or two before Ferdinand lifted his foot and lit his cigar.

"D'ass betta'h," he muttered from around his smoke. Through lidded eyes his victim watched him turn and head for the door, holding up a hand to wave half-heartedly at his comrade, "the rest is up to yah. Don't worry," he blew out a plume of smoke and grinned, "he'll cooperate."

Then Ferdinand was gone.

Little chills were working their way up and down Hiro's small body, shuddering through his wounds and forcing tiny winces across his face.

He _hurt._

And he was so _tired_.

All he wanted to do was sleep until the ends of the earth.

Exhausted and burning with aches that would surely scar his nerves for years to come, Hiro felt himself beginning to drift off until warm leathery hands wrapped around his own. Jerking back he emitted a choked scream of surprise when his pain increased. His vision temporarily burst with white, a ringing returning to his ears as he slumped to the side and grew totally limp.

The hands from before continued to fiddle with his wrists until the tightness around them loosened.

Unable to hold it back, a low groan rumbled through his throat as the sharp cuffs were pulled out of his flesh and cast aside. Replaced by a soft but firm grip his hands were lowered and he was propped up against the wall listening to the music of colorful cursing.

"Dumb son of a bitch, we need these hands working," a voice he could swear he knew from someplace grumbled. Squinting his eyes open the young teen watched larger, calloused hands examine his wrists, twisting them painfully against the light to better examine his wounds. Curious, he waited for the older man to speak again but he didn't. Instead he pulled out a small, white, metal box and popped it open. Through eyes that seemed to need lessons on focusing Hiro watched him pull out a smaller bottle and a few pads of gauze.

He was just about to drift off before a fiery stinging sensation sizzled into his left wrist. Flinching he tried to tear his arm free but Yokai- as his brain had inexplicably decided to call him- had a firmer grip. It wasn't long before Hiro was pinned down and forced to endure the burning treatment and he did so until both wrists were cleanly wrapped up. Then Yokai stood and made a "stay here" gesture before walking to the door. Watching him go with a glare that was as steely as he could manage, Hiro kicked off the blankets. But his captor had turned away and locked the door behind him.

_Now's my…chance…_he thought groggily, eyelids fluttering and darkness swirling towards him. _I can… just… le-lea…_

_[?]_

He woke up to a loud clang and gave a mental curse of dismay as he took in the brightly lit room.

He'd fallen _asleep!? _

Sitting up he hardly noticed the Guatemalan blanket slip from around his shoulders with Yokai sitting in front of him. He'd apparently brought in a chair and perched himself on it so he could fold his arms over the back rest where he leaned forwards off his right leg.

With some suspicion Hiro noticed this and stared uncertainly until gloved fingers snapped for his attention. Begrudgingly he gave it- more out of curiosity than anything else. When his focus had temporarily been ensnared the well-postured man used the same hand to point downwards just a few feet in front of his captive.

That was when he caught sight of the wooden bowl full of steaming, golden broth. His mouth immediately began filling with eager saliva and he found himself wondering how long it had been since he'd last eaten. Now that he knew it was there he could _smell _it and it was irresistible.

He'd never had a grandmother and he couldn't remember what his mother's soup tasted like but he imagined either would have been something like this.

There was the milky scent of butter, the sharp tang of dried thyme leaves, the fresh warmth of a broken potato, and the mouth-watering aroma of cooked chicken.

It was probably drugged.

Swallowing thickly Hiro forced his gaze away and ran his hands through his hair, both trying to ignore the pain in his wrists and the ease the headache that rumbled through him, threatening to form a migraine. Curling up and covering his face with his arms in a weak hope of blocking himself from the meal he came to notice something that had not been there before. His lower chest, around the last two or three ribs on his body, was a tight compression trapping in a soothing warmth not unlike the generator in Baymax's frame. It was uncomfortable but he found it muffled the pain he'd previously met with each breath.

Confused he reached under his shirt and pulled it up just enough for him to find his chest bound with gauze. Cautiously he looked towards Yokai as though asking if this had been his doing.

He got no reply from the watchful visitor.

Carefully Hiro probed the area, searching for anything that could clue him in. He found it on the left end of his 11th rib and furiously clenched his jaw against the pain. The skin pulsed, felt overly warm, and was so inflamed it almost felt bulbous.

_Broken or cracked? _He asked himself and was somewhat disturbed when he couldn't remember how sensation differentiated the two of them.

Yokai cleared his throat and Hiro looked up at him, glaring from under a fringe of black. Once again the mysterious man pointed down at the bowl but this time he didn't switch his gaze to the offered food. Instead he shook his head and backed up as much as he could.

After a battle of wills the cloaked figure stood and moved towards the bowl with big, trepid brown eyes following. He stopped in front of Hiro and crouched down. Before his captive could try to move away from him he reached out and grabbed his face in his hand, trying to force his mouth open. He stopped when the stubborn teen moved to bite him and, feeling triumphant, Hiro heard him growl. For some time the two struggled with each other before Yokai huffed and stood back.

Hiro watched cautiously as the man pulled out a black phone and typed in a few commands. After a while he turned the phone around and showed his captive what he was doing.

That's when he saw Tadashi. He was in the room they shared turning things over and cleaning up. It was almost like he thought he was going to find his little brother hiding under the bed or something and was trying to cover up his efforts by tidying.

Hiro's breath sped up and his eyes got wider and the room began to spin.

_It was a live feed._

Then he saw the words beneath the video and his face drained of color.

Yokai had typed a message to someone. _Take him, _it read.

Before he knew it he was shaking his head, willing his jailor to leave his brother out of this. Seeing his desperation Yokai jabbed a finger at the bowl.

_Then eat, _he was saying tacitly.

He didn't let himself think over the risks anymore and reached for the wooden cutlery with a thickening sense of unease. While he knew they wouldn't be willing to kill him just yet it was possible they had put something in the soup- something like a truth serum? Whatever was there he didn't have any other choice but to take a risk if he wanted to preserve Tadashi's safety.

And it smelled so _good. _

Grabbing the spoon Hiro filled and lifted it to his mouth. He glanced up at his unmoving guard before popping it in his mouth and swallowing before he could truly appreciate the taste. His captor didn't alleviate his threat until Hiro was halfway through the bowl and by that time he was _very _focused on what his senses were relaying to his brain.

Yes, he hadn't eaten for at least 24 hours.

_Yes, this was grandma level soup._

Everything about it was warm from the actual temperature to the ingredients. It sat in his belly soothingly, ran down his dry throat like a balm on a burn, and made his mouth water even as he drank. The golden broth clearly had a bit of milk and mashed potatoes in it to add to the thickness. There were chunks of carrots and bits of chicken floating around but what might have added most to the flavor was the dried thyme leaves and Hiro felt like he'd literally died and gone to heaven.

By the time he was done and holding the bowl out at his captor in a silent demand for more he felt alive than he had in days.

As the bowl was taken from his grasp and Yokai filled it with soup he'd brought from a thermos Hiro decided there was a difference between being "stubborn and cautious" and "stubborn and smart". He needed energy to feed his brain and he needed to think clearly so he could formulate his escape.

After two and a half bowls he slowed to a stop and set his half-finished meal on the floor. Wiping his mouth he turned his gaze to Yokai again, waiting expectantly.

There had to be something more to this, after all.

He was right when the man reached behind him and then brandished several files for him to take. Reaching forward to do so, Hiro tearfully discovered, with a fair amount of pleasure, that the level of pain he felt in his chest probably meant he had a cracked rib- not a broken one.* With a tingling in his lungs and throat that made him cough the young prodigy opened the manila folder and began examining what was inside.

He saw circular diagrams made from sheets of metal with masses of wiring underneath, arrows pointing to specific parts of the fray to detail what they contributed. Despite himself Hiro was fascinated by what he saw.

The work was brilliantly done and what errors he saw in the files were few and far between. He gathered that the project was several years old and had been funded by a program called _Silent Sparrow. _Something went wrong in their tests, however, and things ended in catastrophe.

A smack and a rattling sound made him look up to see Yokai kicking a yellow note pad and a pencil at him. Letting both objects skitter to a stop by his leg Hiro looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. He knew what he wanted, however.

_Start with the new designs, _his captor was telling him, _now. _

Some small part of him was excited.

The rest of him was busy trying to put together a plan that would free him bring both his captors to justice.

xxxxx

_*Still hurts an awful lot, though. Cracking or breaking a rib is no laughing matter and it can't be brushed aside like we so often see it done. _

_O= love_

_X= hate_


	16. Notice: Under Construction

_NOTICE: _

_Working on chapter 16 (will show up as 17)._

_If you'd like to watch the progress of my efforts you can do so from Tumblr._

_There's a misconception that I've introduced from my previous update that worries me:_

**_I am not mad._**

_I am merely stressed. But after having had a few days to work, sleep (mostly), and relax I've managed to mute that. (Talking with RisingSm0ke has been unbelievably wonderful. Missy, you are my savior for sure.)_

_To any and all who have felt upset due to my latest behavior I apologize and spread gratitude and love beyond words. I expect no changes from you at all, I'm merely going to be working harder on my chapters and thus you will probably be waiting a few **days **at most for each update. _

_Thank you for your support. :)_


	17. Uragiri

_There are sticky notes all over my computer._

* * *

-Chapter 16-

\- 裏切り -

\- Uragiri -

* * *

_[9:03 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Three days.

Three days had passed and there had been _no _sign of Hiro _anywhere_. With the police searching high and low for the young teen, Tadashi had combed the streets and brainstormed on his own. His friends had offered- _demanded _even- to help him but he'd refused their efforts over and over again.

Yet, with every day that passed the chances of Hiro and Professor Callaghan being lost forever grew ever higher. Tadashi hadn't been able to resist anymore and soon his friends were neck-deep in his troubles, shouldering the weight he'd so struggled with. It was hard to admit but none of them really knew how to find a person despite their creative genius in each practiced field.

Honey knew just the right amount of chemicals to add together and could do so in heartbeats.

Wasabi's patience allowed him hours of working with a fine tooth comb and a steady hand.

Gogo's speed gave her the determination and flexibility that inspired her projects.

Fred's genuine enthusiasm gave him the most room for creativity- no matter how unrealistic- and helped to push all of them forward.

Tadashi's skill and open mind gave him the chance to see things differently than others, to find other possibilities and milk them for what they worth.

They could all solve problems, put ideas together, and create things that made even the most famous engineers gape.

And yet, for all the ingenuity they had they couldn't find one prepubescent teenager and a hobbling old man.

Sighing heavily Tadashi tottered out of the bathroom and made for the landing. The others would be arriving soon and he needed to be ready. He was halfway down the stairwell before he realized that he was missing his thumbdrive and, heaving a sigh, turned to retrace his steps. They'd begun to ask people around bot fights, tucked into alleyways, and smoking outside of pubs. He'd been keeping record of the places they had gone through and where they had yet to look on his drive, as well as possible medical issues they would need to be ready for. Tadashi and his friends had also been making a list of things that could have possibly gotten the two captured in the first place. If they'd been taking for their genius then it was highly possible someone was using them to build something…

Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Tadashi glanced at Baymax's carrier waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He'd been spending what little downtime he'd had these past few days updating his systems. So far the majority of his efforts had gone into improving the medbot's scanner. Tadashi wanted his project to activate not only with a sound of distress but also with dramatic spikes in specific vitals. He wanted Baymax to activate knowing what the possible problem was before even fully scanning the individual patient so he could react quickly if the situation required it.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he swallowed his distress and heaved himself up the stairs. He tried not to think about what might happen if- _when_ he found his little brother. He tried not to think about how many nights he'd been-

Shaking himself he pushed on to his side of the room, forcing his gaze to keep forward and away from Hiro's end. After a bit of shuffling through the clutter of paper on his desk Tadashi's long fingers wrapped around his red thumbdrive. Shoving it into his pocket he turned and continued his journey down to the garage. He tried to ignore Hiro's side of the room as he passed the shoji, pulling his hat onto his head as he walked.

But, like the attraction between two magnets, his gaze was drawn to his little brother's mess of a room. His heart twisted and his feet betrayed him, striding forward before he could command them to stop. The next thing he knew he stood beside Hiro's desk drinking in the sight of all his belongings.

He'd spent some time trying to clean the space up a few days ago but he'd been interrupted by the overwhelming ache in his heart. Unable to finish, he'd abandoned the task and set his eyes upon another, less painful feast.

Now though, for some peculiar reason, he needed to…

Hesitantly he moved to his brother's room and leaned down, lifting an empty cup of instant noodles off the floor. Pocketing his thumbdrive he busied himself with the task, navigating through his brother's clutter and picking up all the trash on the floor. With an armful of junk he hooked a foot around his little brother's bin and pulled it from between the bed and the empty fish tank. Working off the lid with a smile at the sight of the additions Hiro had made to personalize the trash bin he put the various bits of junk in his arms were they belonged and continued with his self-appointed task almost as though he was on autopilot.

_He's going to be ok, _he promised himself as he made the bed, _I won't stop looking for him even if it takes years. _He tucked the covers in, folded the corners military-style to keep them from slipping out, sorted the pillows neatly and then turned to lifting clutter from off the floor. In his head he saw the ghost of his little brother ripping through his belongings and yelling at him in rage.

"_Tadashi!" _he'd shout, _"Why did you clean my room. You know I _hate _that! Where is Megabot?! And my size 6 wrench?! Dude- jfc,stoplaughingyouturd!"_

With a smile on his face he found himself putting soccer balls, game controllers, orange headphones, a Chinese paper dragon, figurines, and more into a laundry basket that he set at the end of the bed. Though he hadn't expected to Tadashi found a measure of joy in the self-appointed task as he straightened the rug and picked out various screws, nuts, bolts, and worm gears from between the woven fibers.

Finished with the bed and the floor he then turned to the rather daunting task of fixing Hiro's work table. There were screw drivers, bits of cash, coins, hammers, about 11 different wrench sizes both hooked onto the wall and sprawled across the station. His eyes fell on more screws; They found washers, nails, game controllers, mountains of loose leaf paper, pencils, pens, measuring tape, and markers. Tadashi encountered money jars, headphones, unfinished bots, dried clay, paintbrushes, sculpting tools, and coffee rings stained into concept designs.

Taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair he stepped forward and busied himself once again.

Who had he been trying to fool? Gogo and the others weren't going to show up for another hour.

Tadashi set all the loose leaf paper into a pile, smiling at the designs his brother had been putting together and promising himself that Hiro would come home to finish them. A chuckle had wiggled its way out of his throat when he saw a copy of Baymax's pain chart with a red arrow pointing to it. At the other end of the mark was a face that Hiro had drawn. Much like the one on Megabot's face, this one was round, its eyes were wide, and it's mouth was open. But instead of drawing individual teeth his brother had simply made a few cartoonish lines for the top and bottom rows. The eyes were wide and exuded his irritation perfectly with little pupils in the centers.

_Look at this, _He had written, _here is my number II face. __Bug off.__ *_

Chuckling, Tadashi wondered if that had been inspired by Baymax's refusal to move on until he got a number that was on his scale. It didn't matter if you said 0 or 100, he would continue to insist until he got what he wanted. _Actually,_ he thought with a frown, _I should probably fix that too._

He then picked up all the scattered tools and set them on the peg board, lining them all up neatly so his brother could come and mess it up. He closed cold laptops and put away tablets. He set controllers, headphones, and other miscellaneous gear into a bin below the work table.

Then Tadashi, after a half an hour of working around them, turned to his little brother's bots. There were things from spindly, draconian designs, to clunky 1970's style war bots, to miniature samurais. Hiro had little half-finished, wiry aliens, artillery guns that spat out wads of paper in rapid fire, robotic helms made of zinc alloys that glared at the world with phosphorescent eyes. Tadashi found a posable samurai made with aluminum and copper alloys. He even found half a dozen knights swinging morning stars, long swords, and dirks that moved depending on the oral command you gave them. He was putting away little, bulbous, black and white bumbom ghosts from a game he knew Hiro loved when he caught sight of something that unexpectedly wrenched his heart from his chest.

The bright smile, wide eyes, and yellow face was ever so deceiving as he picked up a somewhat dusty Megabot from between the shelves. Hiro had cut it from tungsten carbine and used magnetic suspension to keep it together in a display of ingenuity that really shouldn't have surprised him and it weighed heavily in his hand. Fighting with this thing had been so much fun for his little brother but it hadn't been safe-

Tadashi took a step back and gently sat himself down in Hiro's plush desk chair, never taking his eyes off the infamous invention. He wondered if he should have just left his brother to his bot fights. Biting the inside of his lip and swallowing thickly he ran a thumb over the gleeful face of the bot in his hand. Beneath his fingers the material felt cold and impersonal, solid and smooth and so unfamiliar. Yes, what his brother had been doing hadn't been safe. But, turned out, school hadn't been much safer for him either.

Was it possible that Hiro was right and their family was cursed? Was it possible that _Hiro_ was cursed and, no matter how much he tried, he was never going to be able to further his education like he had the right to do?

"Idiot," he muttered and covered his eyes with his free hand, "What an idiot…"

"Tadashi!" Aunt Cass's voice carried up the stairs, "Your friends are here! Get your butt outta there mister and come down already!"

Taking a deep breath and craning his head back he choked down a lump in his throat before gently setting Megabot on the table.

_I'm going to find him, _he thought, _I __**will**__. No-one is going to keep you from me, Otouto. Watch for me, _turning to the stairs he trotted down with his face set into a determined grimace, _I'm coming, wait for me._

He would search for him with renewed energy.

He would _never _give up on him.

* * *

_[10:15 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

The metal was cold beneath his fingertips and cut into his hands in a way he had grown accustomed to since he was six years old. With a welding torch in one hand, a mask draped over his face, a neurocranial transmitter against his forehead, and a bomb strapped to his neck, Hiro was hard at work.

It had taken a day and a half before he could finalize the concept plan for the new teleporter. Almost as soon as he'd said that he was finished Yokai had snapped the pages from his hand and spent an hour with Ferdinand shouting in one ear while he overviewed the results.

Needless to say, it had quickly become apparent to Hiro which of the two was the _scientist_. Though he'd seemed like a rickety, if wizened, old man before the young teen found he didn't trust any of his knowledge about Ferdinand anymore- which was a shame as he'd so wanted to meet his supposed granddaughter. Biting his lip, squinting through goggles and mask, he flashed a light across the wield he'd just left. Watching the red metal cool with an intensely focused gaze he tried to ignore the uncomfortable way his choker pressed into his throat when he swallowed. The presence of the sleek bomb was supposed to dissuade any effort he'd put into using his microbots to defend but what really had his cooperation were the explosives set into Tadashi's moped.

Grimacing he sighed then pushed his feet against the ground and, with his back pressed into a plank of wood fashioned as a butt-scooter, he rolled to another section. Outside his microbots were working along the metal calmly; raising hunks of metal, drilling in screws, and basically constructing the outline he needed for Red 2- Aka; the return port. Hiro was working on Red 1, the departure port, welding two pieces back together. Yokai had gone out to fetch the missing half and had stayed only long enough to set it safely atop its companion before heading out to do what Ferdinand called "shopping". That had been a day ago.

It wasn't too far off from the truth, it turned out, as Yokai regularly brought back valuable pieces to the project. After another thirty minutes spent welding parts and sweating and trying to ignore the ache in his belly Hiro finally wheeled himself out from the metal cave he'd made a home of these past few days.

Blinking in the bright light he pulled his mask and gloves off, taking in the sight of his microbots working on Red 2. It had initially been very difficult to split his attention in two different areas but once he'd worked out a pattern for the little bots it was easy. While one part of him was focused on welding the other was cycling and recycling a list of things that commanded the efforts of his bots. A microphone in his ear gave Ferdinand the opportunity to yell at him if he messed up too.

Rubbing a hand over his brow and wiping the sweat off on his pant leg he set his things aside and strolled to Red 2.

"Yew done yet, kiddo?" Ferdinand asked, watching the small teen stride across the connecting cat walk. Biting back a retort Hiro shook his head, messy black hair waving around in disheveled disarray.

"No," he said simply. Mentally he was going over everything that he still had to do, formatting his bots into a sturdy pattern before lifting himself off the floor with them. He surveyed what had been done already, went over everything that still needed to be completed.

Progress on the frames was coming along nicely and soon he could continue work on the more sophisticated calibrations. Grabbing his chin and examining the work he pretended to think about what had been done. He had other things on his mind though, namely; escape.

Among the first things he would have to do was swipe the bomb trigger from Ferdinand. His eyes flickered over to the man sitting at the controls behind broken panes of glass and glaring lightly at the systems. Yokai had installed a scanner equivalent to an x-ray that showed the old man just what Hiro was doing inside Red 1- eliminating his available chances of sabotage. He could see the bulge of the trigger in his breast pocket. If he could get that away from Ferdinand then he wouldn't be able to activate either of the bombs.

Hopefully.

He wouldn't be able to activate Tadashi's so…

Given that Ferdinand wanted to sell the final, slimmed down version of the teleporter to the Russian military Hiro found he honestly didn't mind what might happen to his body if he messed up.

He paused, genuinely surprised at the sheer honesty of that fact.

Perhaps he was right to assume it was in the blood of the Hamada family to self-sacrifice for the good of others…

He shook himself. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to let Vladimir Putin get his hands on this and raise ruin throughout the nations.* Cracking his knuckles he dipped his fingers between the wires in front of him and began adjusting the work. While he'd grown accustomed to his pattern he couldn't help the occasional wire or cord crisscrossing the wrong way.

Before he could even take the trigger he'd need to adjust the measurements for the teleporter's calculations. When they tested it, nothing was going to come back through Red 2 as he saw it. If Hiro was right then, using only the right materials and barest amounts of the necessary chemicals in a gaseous form rather than a liquid form, he could create his own return port after entering Red 1. He could infuse the gas with a series of lasers too to maximize their efficiency. If he was wrong, well, better not to think about that right now.

Finding that a particularly misplaced blue wire out of reach he stretched his body to pluck at it. A sharp pain screamed up his side and made him jerk, however; his hand snapping out to gingerly cup the abused area, eyes stinging with the threat of tears. He could hear Ferdinand chuckling a little through the headset and he wasn't sure if it was at him or something else. Hiro hoped it was at him and not his brother, knowing they had a camera set up to watch his older brother.

Gulping down a yelp he carefully pulled back. Once again he had gotten so focused he'd forgotten about his busted rib.

Actually, now that he thought about it, shouldn't his-

He flinched and smacked a hand against his throat as well.

_Okay_, going back to the project, no more of that, that's enough, nopenopenope.

This time he used his microbots to reach for the wire and when he had it set the young genius moved on. It wasn't until he was satisfied with the way things were going on Red 2 that he made to move back towards Red 1.

Only to be intercepted by Ferdinand.

His focused disrupted again Hiro faltered at the sight of the old man standing in his path right in the middle of the catwalk between Red 1 and Red 2. That spotted, fuzzy face, white hair, sunken brown eyes, and grandfather-ish grin had become a full package of warning signs for the youngest Hamada over the past few days. Everything about the way he behaved screamed _old man! Granddad! Harmless! Trust me, trust me! I just want to help you! _Even now he could've convinced anyone he was just a kind old fellow looking for good conversation.

Hiro's heart ached.

He didn't say anything to him and watched Ferdinand casually fondle the trigger in his hand.

"It's so simple, isn't it?" that soothing, dusty, soft voice began. Yet there was something strange in his eyes as he ran a thumb over the red button. His captive didn't bother to ask him what he meant and remained still, letting half of his mind take over so work could continue on Red 2. "How simple taking someone's life can be?" Hiro wanted so badly to ask the older man to just spare him the dumb analogies, villainous speeches, etc, and let him get back to work but with Tadashi's life threatened by this man he smartly kept his mouth shut.

Gazing at the handheld trigger a moment longer he heaved a long, ancient sigh and pocketed it before striding towards Hiro. The catwalk sounded beneath his feet like a rattle snake getting ready to attack and he tensed up. Ferdinand, as he had experienced, was the kind of person who didn't show how angry he was until he had a fist buried into your gut.

A gnarled arm swung around his shoulders and drew him close. Ferdinand leaned down, his breath hot against Hiro's neck, "can you imagine how simple it is to betray someone, little fella?" Before he could completely process what was going on he was in the air and a heavily calloused hand was wrapped around his neck.

Snapping both arms up as Ferdinand ripped off the neurocranial transmitter he pulled against his captor's iron grip with his teeth bared.

"I _know _child!" he spat, shaking Hiro aggressively, "I _know _you're up to something!" The sound of his voice so angry was disturbing and churned in his gut. Feeling like his brain was spinning in his head, muscles burning, throat convulsing, legs thrashing, he tried to free himself from the wild grip holding him away from the opportunity to breathe. "I've been giving you rides in my trolley for almost _2 years_ and I _know you._" Scrabbling against Ferdinand's arms even as he was shaken again Hiro was unprepared to suddenly plummet and land harshly on the catwalk. He threw a hand out and grated his forearm like a wedge of cheese against the track in his effort to reduce the severity of the fall.

Gasping and coughing so hard he threatened to relapse into one of his more traumatic fits he wrapped his hands around his throat as Ferdinand continued on.

The old man circled his captive like a predator hunting its prey as he spoke, "I've been watching you for three days. I've been _waiting _for 2 years! I'm not going to let you make me wait any longer than I have to, child!" A gust of air made him flinch and curl up as much as he could without the spasm of pain he knew he'd receive. But before Ferdinand could smack him over the ribs with his cane he was cut off by a swarm of microbots that swung in from the left. They pattered against the walkway and threw Ferdinand up into the air, wrapping around his body and holding him there. Yokai appeared with an unreadable air about him, looking between his partner and his captive in wait of an explanation.

"How long do you plan on wasting with this?" Ferdinand asked him, suddenly calm and unperturbed by the position. It was like he thought he had the upper hand even with his legs dangling below him and his arms pinned. Peeling himself off the ground with one hand still on his throat Hiro stood and leaned with a somewhat hunched posture into the railing. He was still gasping and a terrible hurt he had grown familiar with webbed out from his side. Throwing his head back, eyes hooded, legs trembling, he tried not to think about how fragile he felt.

Perhaps he was doing better than he had been almost a week ago, but that didn't mean he was pitch perfect. It was hard enough to throw his limited energy into both healing as well as inventions without Ferdinand's bullying, thank you very much.

As usual Yokai said nothing in return- an effort that Hiro supposed was to help keep his identity a secret. Wheezing he leaned a little farther into the safety railing he clutched.

"I've known this boy much longer than you have, you blasted yank," Ferdinand continued, "children like him aren't so quiet unless they're up to something." Then he said something unexpected, "_you _should know that well enough, lad." Quite abruptly Yokai threw out an arm and squeezed his hand into a fist. Ferdinand grunted as his prison tightened and Hiro's nose crinkled with distaste. After a few moments spent making his "partner" squirm the other pointed at their captive.

Flinching, Hiro readied himself for an attack that never came. While he knew that Yokai was smart, he also couldn't deny that there was a difference between the two of them. His elder needed the assistance of physical gesticulations to help form his instructions and keep the enormous amount of microbots he had under control. Contrasting, Hiro needn't twitch when he was genuinely focused on his work. All he had to do was think what he wanted and, as he'd designed them to, they'd do it. This gave him a certain advantage over Yokai;

It meant he couldn't prepare for his attacks.

When he opened his eyes it was to find himself under Ferdinand's grudging scrutiny. For a few heartbeats his face burned with the intensity of his captor's gaze before, finally, there was a nod.

"Fine, I see what you're saying. Hiro can hardly do anything for us if he's sick again."

_I'm _still_ sick, you bastard, _he thought angrily, rubbing at his throat and glaring at the old man accusingly. Blood rolled down his arm and his wounds stung.

Accepting this Yokai set Ferdinand down and let him turn away.

He watched the elder man stride confidently along the catwalk and back into the observatory before turning to the younger. Yokai began walking towards his captive, if only to stop him from trying to pick up his neurocranial transmitter and toss him a short roll of gauze. Uneasy about allowing it, Hiro watched his jailor lift himself back into the air with his headpiece quickly swallowed up by the bots he'd designed.

For a few moments- mostly to regain his wits- he observed the older man's progress with a flickering sense of familiarity. Over the course of the last few days he'd begun to notice particular things about the way Yokai behaved, about the way he watched Hiro work, and about the way he almost seemed pleased about his progress.

But, more than anything it was the slight limp he caught in his step whenever he dared to walk that had begun to clue him in. A limp and general behavior wouldn't be quite enough though. Hiro needed to be able to provide both himself and the police hard evidence.

Though he genuinely dreaded the results with heavy rocks weighing in his heart at the possibility of another betrayal not only to himself but also to his brother, he would need to take Yokai's mask to find out if he was dealing with Callaghan or not.

* * *

_*Excerpt from Hiro's Journal_

_*Vladimir Putin – Russian president. I don't know what universe or parallel world or what it is like that Disney had formed for this movie but, well, yeah. I know things are a bit rough right now (particularly in Moscow) so to all my Russian readers:_

_Remember- if you're going through hell, keep going. You can do it. :)_

_Thank you for waiting, everyone. I hope this chapter fulfills some hopes and settles all the wriggling..._

_Cheers!_


	18. Kibō

-Chapter 17-

\- 希望 -

-Kibō-

* * *

_[4 days after Hiro's capture]_

_[3:45 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

A long sigh drew itself from his throat, pluming gracefully in the air before his lips. Fingering his pocketed cellphone, Tadashi watched his breath swirl around and rise above him. The metal storage unit at his back was cold and bit through his thick sweater but he found he didn't really care. After an hour or so of searching the farthest corners of San Fransokyo with no more results than a few off reports of various things going missing, Tadashi had decided it was time to round everyone up. He'd asked Wasabi to pick everyone up and meet him at the city's southern piers. Then he'd found an open spot by the docks and settled in. He faced an open spot wide enough for a truck to slip through, watching the slippery slope that eased down to the docks worriedly. He hoped Wasabi's car wouldn't slip…

Though the streets had become much clearer these last few days despite the continuous lazy drizzles of snowfall there were still several black ice warnings and people were warned against riding motorcycles and driving large vehicles.

Closing his eyes and leaning back he turned his head. The snow covered docks were a striking, unblemished white that contrasted with the darkness of the lapping waters. Mooring posts were grey with wetted black streaks pouring over the sides, capped by fluffy white hats undisturbed by men. Churning below, the water held a dark, unfathomable abyss. It hoarded secrets like beggars did their coins. The farther off the water was the whiter it seemed in reflection of the misty cloud cover above and the more mysterious it appeared.

It was growing darker and as the shadows became thicker the clouds changed color. Chains struck the sides of the docks, buoys bobbed in the distance to be confused with dismembered heads swimming towards the shore. The nets trailing around them only served to worsen the image as they parroted hair.

Swallowing his unease Tadashi turned his attention off the water and to the sky above. Flecks of snow, many different shapes and sizes, drifted towards him. Some fat, some small, some clumped together, they twirled towards the concrete where they had begun to form a thin sheet over the glimmering black surface. Sniffling and unveiling his mitted hands he brought them up to his face and blew into them, hoping to warm up a little. The thin scarf around his neck did little to help him but then that was his fault for keeping his hair so short.

He shivered.

It was so quiet.

This was one reason why he detested snow despite its grace and beauty.

Everything around it, every little thing, seemed to just freeze. It was as if the earth itself had stopped and then, with that thought in his head, the snow became ash. Shaking his head, Tadashi tried to tell himself he was uneasy because of the desolation the pier was suffering and took a deep breath.

After a few more minutes spent tapping his foot and listening the slosh, slap, and sucking sounds of churning water he found he couldn't take the silence and set his backpack down.

"Ow," he said, watching Baymax unfold and inflate with growing relief. He'd been utilizing the bot's scanner throughout his searching, letting him examine the areas around him for any signs of his brother. If someone was hiding Hiro and lying to Tadashi about it his little brother's specific vital stats would come up on his medical bot's analysis. To his surprise Baymax had also proven to be a very good lie detector. In fact, he was probably the only reason that Tadashi knew about various stolen wares and random goods throughout the city.

As well as some other stuff he'd rather not mention…

(_Okay fine! I have prostitute in my bed right now- geeze, stop fucking pressuring me about my hormone levels you damn, dirty glitch!)_

"I was alerted by a cry of; distress," Baymax began, looking Tadashi up and down, "What seems to be the trouble? My scans do not detect any malfunctions with your systems. Although you do seem; nervous."

"I'm alright, buddy," Tadashi smiled reassuringly, "The pier is just creepy even on a good day." Then he muttered to himself with a glance around the docs, "Why did I even decide to stop here in the first place?"

"I do not have an answer to your question," Baymax said, tilting his head curiously. His creator didn't attempt to correct him and just smiled a little before trying to warm himself up again. Although he felt a tad foolish, Tadashi admittedly felt better now that he had a companion waiting with him, even if Baymax wasn't equipped with any offensive capabilities. "Would you like some assistance?" his bot offered. Suddenly remembering the heater in the robot's frame the college student blinked with surprise.

"Sure," he agreed and allowed Baymax to shuffle forward until he was pressed against Tadashi, belly aglow with a soft red hue. The heat was welcome and, although it wasn't exactly scalding hot, little wisps of escaping warmth streamed into the air. For an untold amount of time he let himself get lost in the soothing presence of his bot, his ward against the chill and guard against fear filled daydreams involving his brother's state.

Just when some distant part of him was starting to wonder where his friends had gone and if something was wrong a loud splash drew his attention away.

"What was that?" he asked, excavating himself from Baymax's embrace and venturing to the side of the storage unit. He held one hand out, positioned behind him as though to bar the medbot from running off into potential danger.

Baymax's vinyl cover squeaked as he moved closer, fully prepared to answer the question that was asked before his creator shushed him. Obediently he fell into silence, watching Tadashi slowly peer around the unit and watch the end of the nearest dock.

The water was absolutely thrashing now, dark waves gorging over each other as though they could eat eachother. Meanwhile, Tadashi watched spires of writhing blackness stream out from its depths, water trickling between clacking metal as a figure was drawn from the mist. As it got closer his eyes drew wide, watching his brother's microbots seamlessly heave Yokai out of the water and over the docks.

"Tadashi!" the voice, as familiar as it was, startled him so bad he almost yelped, lurching away from the containment unit with his fists raised. Parked a few meters away was Wasabi's car and while he had been distracted all his friends had vacated the vehicle, striding to his side. They were only a few feet away from him now.

_Oh no, _he thought with rising terror, _How did I not hear them!?_

"What are you lo-" Gogo began suspiciously, craning her neck and tilting on her foot to see past the storage unit.

"No, stop!" he hissed quickly, grabbing Baymax's hand and dragging him forward, "You all need to get back in the car _right now!_"

Concern fell across Honey's face as he hurried towards them, the sound of clacking metal growing closer from the other side of his hiding place. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when the containment unit behind him was lifted off the ground.

"_Hoooly_ Megazon!" Fred howled and flinched back on his feet as the shadow of the enormous thing fell over them. Lifting it even above himself Yokai could see his victims below, readying himself to throw his makeshift weapon as Honey, bewildered beyond comprehension, held up her pink phone and snapped a quick shot.

Then the unit was tumbling towards them and Wasabi unleashed a terrified, girlish shriek. Gogo turned so fast she almost slid across the ice and did a split while Fred frantically flailed to grab her hand so he could be tugged across the ice.

"Baymax!" Tadashi shouted, throwing his arms above his head as Wasabi's terrified screaming pierced the air. The weight of the containment unit swept up a gust of cold air, sending flurries of fresh snow left and right as it fell towards them.

Bracing themselves, the college students waited for the inevitable crunch of bone and squelch of mushed flesh and pain beyond reason with clenched teeth.

When it didn't come Tadashi registered a groaning sound and opened his eyes. His gaze fell on Baymax holding up the metal unit and tossing it aside just as Gogo grabbed his wrist and yanked him away, sprinting towards the car with the others following suit.

Upon reaching the parked vehicle Wasabi wasted no time in throwing open the driver's door and slipping in, Fred and Honey clambering into the back seat behind him.

"W-wait!" Tadashi cried, feet slipping beneath him as he was shoved into the cab, "Baymax is still out-" He was just about to lurch forward and grab hold of Gogo's arm as she buckled herself in when something caught his attention. He flinched back just as his bot was thrown at them and bounced almost comically off the windshield, tailed faintly by a monotone remark of "Oh no." With only a second to spare he watched, horrified, as a wall of black microbots rushed towards them.

Someone screamed- he couldn't have been sure who- and then they were in the air. Tadashi's heart palpating vigorously in his throat, a burning rock heavy in his stomach, he felt the world tilt aggressively around him. He couldn't tell up from down anymore as he was pressed against the top of the car- having been unable to fasten his seat belt before the blow. Air whooshed past them as the vehicle tumbled uncontrollably before there was another enormous _bang _against the metal and white cracks were thrown across the windows.

His ears were ringing and confusion filled the cab as they suddenly slowed and began drifting down. It took them all a moment to realize they had been thrown off the pavement and into the water, watching with terror as it quickly began to fill up. By the time they reached the bottom they were pressing their faces against the top of the car to get the last of the available air. Then Wasabi was wrestling open his car door and Gogo managed to break a window. Honey slipped out the opening behind her friend and Tadashi was about to follow before something grabbed his leg and he looked back.

His tawny eyes met the terrified hue of Fred's and he looked down as his friend tugged at his seatbelt. Terror welling in his chest he abandoned his escape and returned to his side.

_I'm not going to lose another one, _he thought. They were both yanking at the stubborn belt fruitlessly as the others swam to the surface, driven by a mad need for air.

When his insistent efforts bore nothing he felt around the buckle searchingly, unable to see clearly in the dark ocean water. His lungs were burning and his energy was waning, bubbles escaping past his lips. Likewise, Fred's efforts were growing weaker and in a last ditch attempt he gestured for Tadashi to leave him behind.

But he didn't even bother to consider it.

_I'm not losing any more people!_

He pulled up energy from a reserve he hadn't known existed and wrestled furiously with the belt. _From now on_, he promised himself, _I will never, ever lecture Hiro for carrying a pocket knife around ever again. _

He was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the arrival of a soft glow until Baymax was reaching forward and, using a pair of surgical scissors, cutting through the material. With his body giving out on him and the overwhelming need for air burning in his lungs Tadashi didn't even mentally ask any questions as he and his friend were pulled through the broken window. Held against Baymax's chest the bot released the anchor he had used to pull himself down and let his natural buoyancy carry them upwards.

They broke the surface just in time for Tadashi to take a compulsive breath, throwing back his head and gasping furiously. He accidentally inhaled droplets of water that had been launched into the air and leant over his floating robot coughing and choking. From the docs he could hear his friends calling to him but he didn't have the strength to reply just yet, too preoccupied with his panting.

In his fear he hadn't noticed the chill of the water but now, as his body quivered with enough strength to rock their make-shift Baymax-raft, it was all he could think about. It was so cold his entire body _burned._

"Th-th-th-th-th-th-th-tha-ankszzz—zz-z, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-u-uu-d-uh," Fred expressed with his teeth clacking together. Tadashi could only nod, still busy trying to catch his breath and listening faintly to Baymax's warnings about low body temperatures.

"Hey, hurry up you two!" Honey cried from the docks, "You'll get hypothermia if you stay in there much longer!"

The two exchanged glances as Baymax voiced his agreement before clumsily paddling their way to safety.

* * *

_[5:17 PM]_

Leaning back with a suppressed groan and a hand towel draped over his head Tadashi let himself sink into Baymax's refurbished vinyl body, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and nursing a steaming cup. His back and neck were sore but at least now he was much warmer.

Lifting his head he glanced at the others- each of them wrapped in various blankets with their own cups around the fire. Baymax was in the center seemingly totally unperturbed by the people pressing happily into the warmth he provided them. Occasionally a series of beeps and whirs would vibrate out of his frame to indicate a cursory scan and he might pipe up about his assessments but for the most part he stayed silent and let the college kids discuss recent events.

"I'm telling you," Wasabi began insistently, narrowing his eyes at the comic in his hand, "There is _no way _Alistair Krei is behind this!"

"No but _think about it!_" Fred began eagerly, bouncing excitedly in his cocoon, "super villains are almost always rich people with some kind of vengeance thing! It _totally _makes sense!"

"How does it make any sense at all?!" Gogo snapped, throwing the comic she had been given to the ground and withdrawing her tiny hands into the blanket around her thin shoulders.

"Krei wanted your brother's microbots," this time Fred turned to Tadashi, who looked up from his copy of an original _Guardians of the Galaxy _comic book, "But he said "no" so he decided to kidnap Hiro and force him to make him more microbots!"

"Oh come on!" Gogo huffed and Wasabi groaned, running a large hand down his face. But Tadashi couldn't help but wonder. Fred was making a valid point even if the evidence he was using to back himself up with held no ground in reality. Was Krei really capable of pulling this kind of thing off?

"Well," Honey began uncertainly, "It's _possible_…?"

She exchanged a glance with Wasabi who simply shook his head. By this point Fred was moments away from leaping to his feet and gesticulating wildly as he continued his efforts.

"No," Tadashi finally decided, releasing his chin and looking at his friends, "this couldn't have been Krei's work. Yokai had my brother's microbots _before _he abducted him and even if Krei was behind this someone would have noticed his absence." Shaking his head he set the comic down and took a thoughtful sip of his coco. Fred pouted at his dismissal but let the argument drop.

"If it's not Krei," he asked after a few moments filled with the crackling of the fire, "who is it?"

Missing the absence of his hat Tadashi removed the towel and self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up.

"I'm not sure, but whoever he is he's smart," he pointed out. Distracted, he set the cup aside and folded his hands together. Wetting his lips he bit his inner cheek and stared at the carpet in front of him as though it held all the answers he needed. "We know he's gathering materials and given that he showed up on the piers today-"

A sudden gasp caught him by surprise and suddenly Honey was awkwardly reaching over and smacking his arm to get his attention, "Tadashi!"

"Woah, what is it, Honey?" he asked, slightly amused by her show of energy.

"From what direction did he come from?!"

He blinked, furrowing his brow and tilting his head a little, "Southeast, he came from out of the water…" Understanding bloomed across Wasabi's face and Gogo's scowl loosened with realization.

Even as Tadashi also realized what she was getting at, Honey gleefully unleashed her idea while Fred struggled to keep up, "If we retrace his steps we can figure out where he's been hiding!"

"If he was out at sea," Gogo began, quickly joining the debate, "Then he must have been on some kind of ship."

"And in this weather how many ships do you think we're going to find out there?" a wide grin split into Wasabi's face and he turned to Fred for an answer.

A loud gasp of realization finally flew from the blond's lips and he leapt up with an eager cry, "5!"

"Better than that, Fred," Tadashi laughed, true hope spreading through his limbs and warming him faster than any normal heat, "There'll only be 1 unmoored ship out there."

Gogo briefly abandoned her blanket, letting it pool around her waist as she leaned forward to punch his shoulder with a victorious smirk on her face, "and _that's _where we'll find your little brother."

Tadashi's smile was wider and brighter than anyone had seen it in days.

It was just about time they got their youngest member back.

* * *

_Only a few chapters left, everyone. :)_

_Wow, Christmas is 3 days away! I was not prepared for this!_

_I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays and having a good time. Take it easy!_


	19. Chiruto

_Warning: Chapter rating is __**M.**_

* * *

-Chapter 18-

-チルト -

-Chiruto-

* * *

_[6:15 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

A long frustrated sigh blew past his lips as he flipped through documents and digital files with his lip between his teeth and eyes sagging in their sockets.

_How does he do it? _He asked himself, looking over Hiro's notes, _How does he think like this? _

There was no doubt about it; his little brother was the genius of the family. These notes, these crazy designs and casual scrawls could change the world and Hiro had been spouting them from before he'd even attended highschool. No wonder he was trying to barrel through all the introductory classes at once, he must be bored out of his mind.

Running a hand through his hair and heaving a sigh Tadashi scrolled through the digital blueprints on his little brother's computer. Initially, a twinge of guilt had twisted his heart upon doing so but ultimately he wasn't about to let his friends jump into a potentially disastrous situation unprotected. They all needed _something_ to help but his head just didn't work the same way that Hiro's did. He was more of medical guy and a programmer. It took him a few days just to come up with some reasonable designs.

But here his little brother was slamming down things as odd as pens that wrote in the air with congealing smoke to military grade war bots the size of his thumbnail.

He read all the scribbles and tried to make sense of them, wrote out his own notes, and struggled to hell and back. But no matter what he did he couldn't apply what he'd taken from Hiro's files to what he needed. He couldn't just give his friends anything either, they needed to know how to use their weapons. And the weapons shouldn't be able to kill people…

Sighing he leaned back, head resting against the backrest and closed his eyes. He felt so cold without his hat and it was funny how much that bothered him. Tadashi felt like he was floating and all his ideas were melting in his brain then turning to gas and escaping out the top of his head. For what must have been the hundredth time he ran his fingers through his hair.

"I can't do this," he groaned, covering his eyes and tugging at his hair hopelessly, "I _can't_."

Maybe he should have gotten more than 5 and a half hours of sleep before deciding to start making these things. How did Hiro do so much with so little?

For several long moments he remained cocooned in his despair, fighting against frustration and defeat before he was alerted to Baymax's arrival by the tell-tale sound of squeaking and popped open an eye.

"I come equipped with: energy inducing refreshments," his bot told him. Sure enough he held a tray grasped between two enormous, vinyl hands. Centered in it was his favorite, lucky bamboo green, Mashiko Sasa tea cup. He blinked with confusion and watched the lazy rise of steam crawl from out the top before turning his attention on Baymax. "My scans detect that you are feeling; confused. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Baymax," Tadashi began slowly, reaching out to accept the cup of tea, "I didn't program you to be able to do this."

The med bot didn't seem deterred his tone and played a recording that caught his creator so off-guard he splashed tea across his torso. "_Tadashi is really useless,_" Hiro's voice stated and with a yelp he leapt to his feet, "_Honestly, he's only programmed you one-way." _An image blipped to life on Baymax's belly and there he saw his little brother sitting at his computer with a chip plugged into the side of the console. He was leaned forward and it was hard to see his face with such a fresh head of rumpled bed-hair.

Whatever reprimand Tadashi was going to give his robot for startling him so much was thrown back down his throat at the sight of Hiro hard at work and still in his pajamas, "_I mean; he makes a medbot that doesn't know how to make _coffee?!" His brother turned to look over his shoulder and the expression on his face was so utterly incredulous, like this was the dumbest thing Tadashi had ever done in his life and he just couldn't comprehend how he'd managed it, that a sound somewhere between a snort and a chuckle bubbled out of Tadashi's throat. The overall manic image was completed by the bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, and rumbled clothing. _"Or even _green tea_?! We may only be half Japanese but come on! How American _is he_?!" _That said Hiro leaned back away from his frantic typing and pressed a finger against the chip. It popped out of his computer and he grabbed a pen, scribbling something on it before turning to Baymax. _"You're data base is severely lacking without these skills, big guy. But this will help-_" Hiro pressed a finger against the bot's access port and slipped the chip in place.

Turning his head up and scrolling through the additions to his data base, Baymax analyzed the new information.

"_This will help me become a better healthcare companion?" _the robot asked, his voice sounding much louder.

With his hands on his hips Hiro nodded eagerly, grinning like a fox, "_Oh, absolutely, buddy!_ _Now let's test this out, go make me some Japanese green tea!"_

Then the video paused and Tadashi was left with the image of his little brother making a butler out of his med bot. A smile wormed its way onto his face and he glanced down at the tea half on his shirt and half in the cup.

"You know, Baymax," he said and took a sip, "you could have just told me that Hiro had programmed you to make tea. You didn't have to show me a video."

"Your neurotransmition levels were low," his robot stated, "as a medical bot it is my priority to lift them."

"Hmm," Tadashi said, new energy trying to swirl to life inside him, "I guess you've determined that videos help that?"

"It is the most successful treatment," Baymax nodded, "and my programming details that a cup of green tea is also sufficient for patients who are in emotional distress." Tadashi didn't reply, however, his attention set on the swirling tea in his hands.

_Alright little bro, _he thought and set the cup down, _I'll keep going. _

"Baymax, stay here," he ordered, "I'm going upstairs to find a new shirt." Without waiting for a reply he hurried away, jogging out of the garage and around the back. He hurried upstairs as quietly as he could, aware that his aunt was sound asleep. It was as he was shuffling around the room searching for a spare shirt that he noticed it;

The blue journal he'd given Hiro for his birthday several years ago.

White T-shirt hanging over his bare shoulder he leaned down and pulled it out from under the safety of his brother's bed. Scrawled in red ink across the cover were various warnings to "keep out" of the private note book and they made him smile. He was about to put it away when something sticking out of it caught his attention.

_W-well, _he thought nervously, _it's not like Hiro will know anyway. _Pulling the loose leaf paper free his eyes scanned his brother's doodles and meandering thoughts.

And his brain lit up like a 600 watt lightbulb.

_Oh, you little devil._

On each of the five sheets of paper were designs that featured his friends' talents and formed them into weapons, there was even one for Baymax. While incomplete they gave Tadashi a much needed boost. He would finally be able to _get _somewhere.

"Okay, let's get started."

* * *

_[7:45 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

A long sigh heaved out of his throat and, arms smeared with grease, soot, and sweat, Hiro overlooked the finality of his efforts. Sometime last night he'd finished both frames and his own handheld one-time-only teleporter- which he'd been able to slip into his heavy jacket pocket.

With rips growing in his nightshirt and chills sweeping through the metal corridors of the lab at all hours of the day he'd been burdened with the thick, scratchy, oversized men's jacket from who-knows-where. Of course, the thing was so old he couldn't use the zipper to held him preserve heat at all.

Standing in the observatory with his hands just barely poking out of the sleeves and trying to ignore the strained shivers that rolled up and down his body he checked over the algorithms in front of him. His vision was a little blurry, however, and it was difficult to focus when the world kept tilting.

Probably meant that he had a fever again or something.

Rubbing a hand over his nose and clearing his throat he tried to will the confusion away. After a few moments of listless staring he returned to his efforts, scrolling through diagrams and typing out extra calculations.

Here's how much he needed of this. This is how hot this would have to be. This is when they all need to combine.

Shuffling from behind him reminded Hiro of Ferdinand's hovering presence a moment before a beep and ringing sound signaled the use of his phone.

"Wat iz ig?" he asked, a cigar sticking out of his mouth.

_Oh come on,_ Hiro thought miserably. At least when he'd been working on the frames he'd had a mask to protect him from the smoke and dust. His fingertips stalled over the keyboard as he listened to the buzz of voices. Without turning his head he flicked his gaze upwards to check on Yokai, who was busy triple checking the hardware and circuitry of Red 1.

While Yokai had kept Ferdinand from killing him these past few days it was quite clear that he didn't care if Hiro died _after _the machine was built. He swallowed roughly, rubbing a hand over his throat, glad that the movement wasn't met with any significant aches on his bicep anymore.

Technically, he'd been finished with the calculations since almost thirty minutes ago. At this point he was just buying time, waiting for Yokai to go shopping again. He planned on sending him off to hunt for some materials that he knew he wasn't going to be able to just "magic into existence" and while he was gone he could set his plan in motion.

A clicking sound from behind him caught his attention and he turned his head in time to catch Ferdinand's glare as he lit his cigar. Glowering right back at the menacing man he licked his lips before once again allowing his focus to move to his work.

"Then take care of it, you dumb yank," Ferdinand growled at his underling, "Go figure it out. What, do you need me to _think _for you too?" That said he abruptly hung up the phone. As Hiro grabbed a stylus and began writing in notes along the margins of the virtual page before him he felt brown eyes burning a hole into the back of his neck. He tried to ignore it.

There were a few relatively peaceful moments spent that allowed him to slowly slip back into his pooling attention and swiping a finger across the touch pad he turned to his escape plans. Deep in thought, he subconsciously grabbed his chin with his hand and continued scribbling in his notes.

_I 'm using the first steps to making a hydrogen helium fusion bomb, _he reviewed, briefly glancing up at Red 2 where he'd already put his concoction*, _Using hydrogen's heavier isotopes, deuterium and tritium I won't need to adjust the temperature of the portal. That will create helium and such a large amount of energy there will be no way that Red 2 _won't _explode. And after that, Red 1 will go off in a chain reaction. _His gaze fell back to the bomb's schematics, _knowing how it's going to happen now I need to ask; when would be the best time to set it off? _

He was going over the course of his escape plan when a knocking on the cracked glass interrupted him. Jerking his head up with surprise he met Yokai's yellow eyes and swallowed a thick ball of nervousness. But his captor's gaze didn't turn to examine his work. Instead one gloved hand simply pointed to the door.

He was going out again.

Nodding, Hiro held up his index finger and leaned over to grab a pad of paper. He was sure to cover the screen with it as he flipped the pen over and used the ink-tipped side to write out a list of the things he needed and how much of each there was to get. Using his microbots, Yokai drifted around to the door and as he did Hiro deftly used one finger to swipe across the screen below the pad.

When his captor entered he limped to his side and, without waiting for him to rip the piece of paper with his list off he grabbed the whole pad. It seemed that Yokai didn't entirely trust Hiro either because he looked at the screen with a skeptical air about him.

But all he could see were the calculations he'd ordered him to complete. So, satisfied, he turned away. Ripping off the front sheet he tossed the note book on the dash and watched Ferdinand warningly.

It was as though he was saying; _I'm going out. You better not try anything while I'm gone._

But clearly this was the first mob boss Yokai'd ever known because when the older man nodded his head he left without pause.

Then it was just the two of them and Hiro knew things weren't going to go well.

Ferdinand stood up and started towards him…

* * *

_[7:50 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Even with the headphones on his ears the roar of the helicopter's pumping blades was ridiculous. Leaning against the window beside him Tadashi scanned the dark waters below, more thankful than he'd ever been for having a friend with such helpful connections.

"Do you see anything?" He heard Gogo's voice crackle through the headphones and he turned to see her leaning out the helicopter with one hand griped on a bar to hold her steady. On her feet she wore the modified boots he'd designed for her; they looked like regular combat boots with carbon fiber wheels on either sides to form magnetically attached skates that flipped down when in use. Of course she'd adjusted them a little as well and they weren't exactly perfect but they would fit her needs. She was looking over her shoulder at him expectantly and he shook his head.

"Our range isn't good enough, maybe we should go higher?" Honey recommended.

"Heathcliff," Fred shouted, "Take us up!" For Fred he'd used Hiro's schematics to create flexible, carbon fiber jumping stilts. There were a little too wiry and thin but the comic-geek could jump up to 45 feet in the air with them. Tadashi had thought about adding butane and riot foam into a suit for Fred, as he'd seen in the concept designs his little brother had drawn, but ultimately he had been too worried about the possible damages that would arise from it so he'd refrained.

Without a word the butler obeyed his command and they swept farther away from the waters. A shrill cry escaped Wasabi despite the smoothness of the motion and Tadashi managed a small smile when his much larger friend latched onto his arm, his bracers bumping against the lankier man's side. Even he had to admit that the designs for Wasabi's gear were pretty wicked. Using the older student's affinity for precision Hiro had put together gauntlets that projected laser induced plasma like swords. No doubt this was something inspired by one of his many mangas- probably from _Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagan._*

"I would probably love this if I wasn't afraid of heights!" Wasabi informed him," but I'm terrified of heights so I'm not loving this!"

Gogo slipped back inside for a moment and smacked his arm, "Stop whining and woman up, you're in a helicopter. It's not like you're out in the open air or anything!"

"Are you kidding?!" Wasabi backfired, grunting when Honey Lemon clambered over him so she could see out the other side with Gogo, "In 2010 1,115 people died in aviation accidents!"

"But that was-" a sudden thrumming temporarily cut Honey Lemon off as Heathcliff leveled off again, "-years ago, Wasabi!" Her hair streaming wildly in the wind Honey shifted her purse to a more comfortable position and looked back at their pilot with a big grin, "and Heathcliff has been doing this for much longer than that. We'll be fine!" For her Hiro had designed a very fittingly adorable over-the-shoulder purse. In the original designs he'd had the entire periodic table printed on one side, wanting Honey to be able to concoct whatever she needed on the go. But Tadashi wasn't as smart as Hiro and couldn't figure out how to get all those different chemicals to settle peacefully with each other.

Seriously, you didn't just put nitrogen and oxygen in the same place with a flame nearby. He'd only been able to put together the barest minimum and with Honey's help they'd managed to come up with a few smoke screens and various gels.

Heathcliff gave an approving nod but didn't look away from what was in front of him.

"The sooner we find this ship the sooner we can land!" Tadashi reasoned and pushed back towards the window. Hiro hadn't really produced any designs for him. What he _had _done was energetically come up with ideas for Baymax. So Tadashi had settled for putting his karate to use. Armed with two tonfas sheathed at the base of his back he was set for close range battle.

Each of them had been given protective Kevlar suits and flexible padding around joints and necks too. Tadashi had gone with darker colors to help them all blend in as well as single-ear-piece headsets so they could communicate if they were separated.

"But we really should have found _something _by now, don't you think?!" Wasabi demanded, "and even if we _do _find it, what can we do? We're a bunch of nerds!"

"We'll think of something," Tadashi told him, scanning the waters, he pulled out a pair of binoculars, "All we have to do is look at it from a different angle and if anything happens we have Baymax and a helicopter."

The medbot was tucked away soundly at his feet, ready to unfold and start treating patients at any time. But Tadashi was desperately hoping they wouldn't need to use it.

"He's right, though," Fred shouted over the uproarious winds, "We've been out here for almost forty-five minutes. We should have seen something by now."

Tadashi bit his lip.

The mist had lifted a bit since yesterday but it was still a little difficult to look through so they'd been doing a lot of combing.

"Well," Honey started, "If Tadashi says Yokai came out of the water from Southeast why don't head there?"

"We should fly lower too," Gogo added, leaning back inside and wiping perspiration off her goggles, "at this height and with this mist we aren't going to get anywhere."

Nodding, Fred turned to Heathcliff but he'd already gathered this information and gently took them closer to the water. A tiny 'eep' worked its way out of Wasabi's throat and he was just about to cut off the circulation to Tadashi's arm but he didn't seem to notice.

Hiro had been missing for 5 days. He wasn't going to miss this chance to get him back for anything.

* * *

_[8:03 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

He was pinned.

He couldn't breathe.

His head was spinning so hard it had come right off his head and was somewhere in the stratosphere.

There was this strange buzzing in his ears that he couldn't make sense of, like someone was trying to talk to him but he was underwater.

His throat stung.

His ribs throbbed with every beat his hollow heart made.

Something trickled down his neck, smearing underneath his choker. Sleepless, sick, and sore his brain fuzzily flashed back to distant horrors as it worked to process present ones.

A gruff voice filled his thoughts,_ "This kid thinks he can get off without proper pay?"_

And there were people laughing, _"hah, let's cut him up!"_

Their voices faded in and out randomly but, as though it was ingrained into his memory he knew exactly what they were saying despite the confusion.

His elbows stung,_ "Where are you going, runt? Stop wriggling and come play!" _Someone was grunting. The sound of sneakers squeaking across wet pavement in a frantic dance towards escape.

He couldn't see.

He couldn't see.

He couldn't see and he was scared.

_Tadashi!_

He weakly kicked out, feet slashing against soft flesh fruitlessly before something thin and solid slashed against his shins. It felt like a belt but the sensation left behind was too static-y for him to tell.

"_Get off of me, perverts!"_

A distant click, the jangle of a belt buckle, words buzzing in his ears. Was there a face in front of him or was that just a gnarled tree that _looked _like a face?

Was he dreaming?

He was pulled under again and his vision went out.

He felt phantom hands around his neck, his wrists, his legs-

"_Pin him!"_

"_Lift his shirt up!"_

Then they were on his chest and they were _cold_ and _rough. _Water soaked through his khakis and splashed against his back as he was screaming, fighting, desperately praying his big brother would show up and save the day. Someone shoved something into his mouth and he choked. He couldn't spit it out before they slapped duct tape across his face.

"_One cut for every 100 yen missed!"_

He grunted and struggled even harder.

A blade was held under his arm.

He screamed, the sound muffled by his gag.

"_Cut him!"_

Roaring encouragement.

His heart wrapped with a chill.

_Tada-nii!_

Then the blade cut into his flesh. And then again and again and again.

And it _stung. _

And it _burned._

And after a while they weren't just cutting flesh they were cutting _muscle._ Then bone, then organ, and then-

What was real?

What wasn't?

Where was Tadashi?

He lay limply on the ground with a chill soaking into his shoulders. The roar of laughter and taunts slowly fell away to be replaced by ringing. The street water at his back gave way to smooth metal. His wrists were free, his legs were limp, and a fresh cut on his neck stung. The surface beneath him vibrated with distant activity but he couldn't seem to grasp what the cause was. He couldn't tell if his body was numb or if his blood wasn't circulating the way it was supposed to.

_Bang!_

_Krkckckck_

Men grunting, the sound of flesh beating against flesh, metal against metal…

And then, like something in him had popped, he came to life.

His back arched off the ground suddenly, lungs filling up with air so violently he convulsed. The world above him was grey, black, white, tinted with blue and spinning but he forced himself to bite down on the vomit that threatened to heave out of him. Lying flat on his back, splayed across the observatory floor like a doll, his brain struggled to comprehend.

A few minutes before, Ferdinand had thrown him up against the dashboard and swiped a finger across the screen Hiro had previously been leant over. He'd found his escape plan. Terror worked through him anew as his brain discovered the memories that led to his current position. He'd called in a few goons, pinned him down, and threatened him.

Threatened his brother.

He'd been shaking the trigger in front of Hiro's face when he'd kicked Tweedle-Dee in the nuts and grabbed it. Before Tweedle-Dum had managed to catch him he'd ripped the device open and torn it apart with his bare hands.

Then he remembered seeing Ferdinand's metal-tipped dress shoe an inch from his face. Then there was blinding pain and his head snapped back. Then ringing, something cold and sharp digging into his throat…and…he struggled to remember the rest. Had someone grabbed him?

Quivering he pushed himself up and almost fell right back down when his arm threatened to give out on him. And he'd thought the bruise Professor Shinji had given him was bad- now his entire body felt like pulp. But he was a Hamada and Hamada's don't give up easily. He tried again, this time prying his watery eyes open. The sight that met him immediately had Hiro bent over and emptying his stomach.

Just two meters in front of him lay Tweedle-Dee. His eyes were wide open but covered with that thin, foggy, silver film people got after death. Blood pooled around his pale, gushing throat. It was black in the center and red as it spread across the metal, like a gory, syrupy, mess. . Around the gashes, the twisted and frayed skin, he noticed something peculiar about the way Tweedle-Dee's neck was warped. Then he saw the rest of his body he proceeded to dry heave.

The buff man's head was twisted 180 degrees around to give the illusion that he was facing Hiro.

He wasn't.

The rest of his body was turned in the other direction.

With one hand pressed against his mouth and horror in his eyes, Hiro struggled to his feet. He could see Tweedle-Dum a few meters away, half out the door with a hole in his back that had been presumably caused by a bullet. Swallowing thickly he turned his attention forward. There he saw Ferdinand caught in a fierce battle with Yokai.

Or should he say "Callaghan"?

If possible Hiro's eyes grew wider at the sight of his brother's hero ripping furiously into another man. Callaghan's face was contorted into a vile mess of rage and blooming red with irritation. His mask was cracked and fallen on the floor, blue shards indicating the mess he'd made of the neurotransmitter inside.

Pressing himself against the monitors behind him he watched both men beat their fists into each other, blood flying off their lips, bruises swelling over their skin. Sickened he listened to the wet sound of flesh on flesh and their grunts of pain.

"Old, rickety, fool!" Ferdinand sputtered, smashing his cane into Callaghan's side. The former professor yelped and stumbled away, "you've made a mess of everything!"

"_I've _made a mess?" Callaghan demanded and thrust forward a fist, clipping the side of Ferdinand's rumpled face, "If I hadn't realized that Hiro was making an idiot of us and come back you'd of killed him and we'd both be back where we started!"

Snarling Ferdinand ducked and swiped his leg across the floor, kicking Callaghan's legs out from under him. Tumbling to the ground the former professor found himself pinned under his elder.

"I want my money, Callaghan," he snarled, "I want my money _now!_"

A foul snarl curled his lip and the former military commander hissed his reply, "You want your money?" Violently, he kneed Ferdinand in the nuts and threw him off. Rolling over their positions became swapped with Callaghan now leaning over Ferdinand. "Well I want my _daughter back!_"

_Snap._

A gasp shuddered through Hiro as his brother's favorite robotics teacher proceeded to break the mob boss' neck with one swift movement.

Then silence swept over them like the wakes of a raven flying above a rotting field. Panting, the sounds of settling flesh and bone, the dripping blood; these were the only things present.

That was before Callaghan lifted his head and found Hiro staring at him.

_He's going to kill me, _he thought, struggling with his panic, _he's going to kill me._

"Hiro," his captor started, swallowing thickly as he struggled to stand. The sound of his name seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in and, fueled by adrenaline, the young teen hurled himself forward. "Hiro!" Callaghan shouted and reached out to grab his captive. But he was too small and quick as he danced around him. Faced with the controls his fingers flew across the console. "What are you doing- stop!"

With a rapid series of taps the low, electrified hum of an activating machine rumbled through the observatory. Forgetting about his wounds and his progressing illness Hiro braced himself for the initial blast of the first activation. Grabbing the console he ducked his head and with a sonic _boom _both Red 1 and Red 2 burst to life. The fragile remainders of glass above him shattered and flew over his head before slamming into the man just at his back.

Less prepared for the blow, Callaghan was sent stumbling back and rammed against the farthest wall of the observatory riddled with shards of glass. As the strength of the blast lowered and both machines turned to a gentle hum Hiro leapt up and raced out of the observatory. A grunt and a curse followed him passed the door, down the steps, and across the ramp.

The catwalk rattled beneath his slippered feet, the air buzzed around him, his cheeks burned, legs wobbly with energy he couldn't quite supply but tried anyway…

He was almost there, he could feel the heat of Red 1 on his skin. All he had to do was jump-

Something wrapped around his ankle and dragged him back.

"You're not going anywhere, boy!" Callaghan sounded so savage and cruel Hiro wondered if he was human for a moment. How could this have been the man keeping him alive until this point?

He was pressed into the ground, bones screaming with an agony that was momentarily blinding as Callaghan leaned into the forearm he'd laid across his chest. There was about one minute before the machines reached a couple million kelvins and his bomb would erupt. Then Red 2 would blow and Red 1 would be sure to follow and this entire plant would go up in flames.

But Callaghan hadn't figured that part out. It seemed all he knew was that Hiro had an escape plan he wasn't supposed to be here for.

"I'm not going to let you ruin everything," he said, "Not after everything I've done- not after you messed up my first plan when you pulled me out of that fire."

"What?!" Hiro rasped, the effort killing his already abused esophogaus- he was really getting tired of people doing this to him. His struggles lowered to a simmer, "You…?"

Pressing his arm into his rib to cut him off, Callaghan continued, raising his voice above his victim's yell. "That's right," he growled, "I started that fire. I had to to get your microbots- they were _just _what I needed to get my revenge on Krei. I had everything set out, all my work planned, it was going to be perfect. But then," he shook Hiro and the boy yelped, "_then _you messed it up. You "saved" me, ruined my leg, and put me in a hospital-"

Rage welled up inside him and Hiro shot back with all the ire he could, "My brother almost _died _for you! He trusted you!"

"That was his mistake!" Callagahn shot back and his victim froze, eyes wide, face pale, hurt in his eyes.

He didn't care.

His brother's own _idol _had almost killed him and he didn't _care_.

His wrath returned.

"Krei's experiments, his ignorance of the safety precautions, got my daughter killed with this-" Callaghan jabbed a finger back at the portal, "So I'm going to do the same to him." With one hand still wrapped around Hiro's neck he lifted him up off the ground and began dragging him back to the observatory.

Gasping and scrabbling at his gloves he watched with scrambling feet as his escape drew farther away. Brown eyes flickered over the Red 2 and caught sight of the reddening metal.

_Return port is experiencing excess energy production, _a mechanical female voice began, _Systems are overheating. _

His throat burning Hiro plugged his nose and held his breath as helium began to fill the air and Red 2 rumbled.

"What have you-" Callaghan began but started when his voice came out squeaky. Unprepared for the sound his grip on Hiro loosened and with one last savage, thrashing movement his captive broke free.

_Excess energy has reached irrevocable error, _the voice continued as the young genius sprinted across the catwalk. _Please evacuate the premises. _

"Hiro!" the old professor howled. But of course he paid him no mind and continued on his way. Callaghan could stay here, he could stay here and blow up for all he cared anymore. In fact, if Callaghan didn't burn alive Hiro would step up to the plate and-

He shook his head. No, he couldn't' think like that. _Tadashi_ wouldn't think like that. And if his big brother could be forgiving even in this situation then so could Hiro.

Driven by adrenaline and determination as Red 2 began breaking down and sucking materials into itself as the last act it would make before the explosion hit, his feet thundered over the catwalk.

_Wait for me, Nii-san, I'm on my way home._

His feet left the walkway and he soared through the air, breathless and terrified.

This didn't work well for the last scientists so who knows what it would do to him- a boy without any protective gear outside of his too-large, too-thick jacket. He could be shredded alive by some kind of acidic substance. He could be frozen the second he passed through. He could get lost forever.

But it was too late to be dissuaded by these thoughts as he swan dived into the colorful swirl of scientific might and mystery. There was one last sound from Callagahn, cut off by the crackle and boom of the explosion before he was swallowed whole.

* * *

_*I'm sorry if I'm wrong._

_*TTGL is luv ~ I'm really enthusiastic about its inclusion around Hiro's room and apparent personal life. ;_; _

_I'm also sorry if Callaghan's transition to madness seems rushed. I can't really fix that right now, though. Due to how long this chapter is I had a bit of hard time correcting it myself. I actually almost made it 20 pages, then realized you guys probably didn't want to read that much so I held back. :)_

_So…_

…_.Merry X-mas?_

_*rams hands over ears and ducks down as though preparing for an explosion*_

_Cheers!_


	20. Shi

_Like, not even kidding; I'm probably on the FBI watch list now because of some of the things I've had to look up for this story. .x._

_"How to big explosion with little things?"_

_"Gang violence in Amurica"_

_"Worst places to get shot"_

_e_e they be coming for me, yo._

* * *

-Chapter 19-

\- 死 -

\- Shi -

* * *

_[8:25 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Beneath his feet the island rumbled suddenly.

"What was that?!" Wasabi squeaked, sheathing and unsheathing his laser sword.

"An Earthquake?" Honey Lemon suggested, situating her purse so it was less likely to fall off.

They'd been out circling around for almost an hour before spotting the island hidden away between the mist. Upon sight, Tadashi had nearly smacked himself in the head; how could he have forgotten about this enormous mass of land just off shore from the main land? Seriously?! There was even an abandoned laboratory out here- it was the perfect place for someone to force a hostage to make something big without suspicion.

Heathcliff had had to land the helicopter on the beach for lack of a more open spot, leaving them to walk up to the seemingly abandoned building on the other side of the island. They'd all just climbed out and were double checking their weapons before the ground below them began rumbling.

Behind him the water sloshed and splattered against the beach, little droplets bouncing into the air as vibrations struck.

"That doesn't really _sound _like an Earthquake," Fred started, "It's more like some kind of monster or something from deep within the-"

He was interrupted by a burst of fire that rent forth in the distance with a catastrophic _boom,_ temporarily blowing out his eardrums. His friends shouted, Gogo lowering herself to a knee as the island rattled below them. Plumes of fire rose into the air, shrapnel tumbling through the breaths of black smoke heaved into the mist. Tadashi could feel the heat even from this distance, he could hear the crackle of fire, and stumbled to the side as bits of smoldering metal crashed to the beach.

Honey Lemon threw an orb to the ground and hid behind the protective purple wall of hardening goo with a shout. Meanwhile, Wasabi sliced through the falling pieces of shrapnel with a terrified look on his face and Fred eagerly leapt up and down with his new stilts. Gogo kept close to the ground but ultimately remained under Honey's protective cover as she was unable to move around properly on the sandy beach.

But Tadashi just stood there, gaping, terror flickering in his eyes as he realized;

Nothing could have survived that.

And his brother had still been inside.

"No," he murmured, "No- Hiro!" A curse fluttered through his brain and a grimace set on his face, he ducked and surged forwards.

No way.

No _way._

He was going to get his brother, so help him!

But then thick arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him back, "Tadashi, stop! It's not worth it!"

"No!" he struggled against Wasabi's grip, "No! I'm not giving up on him! There's still a chance that he's-"

"Dude!" his friend's tone was insisting, "We're not going to lose you too, stop!"

But Tadashi couldn't stop, not when Hiro might still be struggling in there. As the falling shrapnel started to diminish he fought his friends and choked back his tears, begging them to let him go as all four struggled with him.

As he watched the distant, writhing flames, it became harder to convince himself that his little brother was alright. No-one could have survived that and even if Hiro had by now he'd be burning to death-

A sob wrenched itself from his throat and his knees grew wobbly, the fires reflected in his wide eyes. He was surrounded by his friends as he fell, Honey Lemon wrapped around his front, Wasabi at his back, Gogo on his arm and Fred struggling to fit himself into the mass of arms and legs opposite her.

Tadashi had thought that losing his brother the first time had been bad but this was much worse. His heart felt as though someone had torn it open, filled it with salt and embers, and then compressed it, leaving it to smolder. If he could have he would have grasped his chest and screamed at the agony and frustration that filled him.

So close, he'd been _so close! _

No more pranks.

No more experiments.

No more dinners or cakes or parties.

No more soccer with his little bro when they both felt too lazy to work their brains.

No more little kitten snores.

No more competitions.

No more Otouto.

He was all that was left.

He was the only one….

In the farthest distance he heard wailing but he couldn't be sure if it was the sound of approaching sirens or a physical human being that was making the sound. Realistically it should have been obvious that it was from a person and not a machine; the police wouldn't be able to get here so fast without some kind of teleportation, after all.

He'd lost all hope by the time an enormous object carrying two figures crashed into the beach from out of no-where.

* * *

_[8:27 AM]_

_[Hiro]_

The first thing that he registered was the strange all-over-body tingling that struck his skin. It was like from head to foot, every limb and patch of flesh had fallen asleep and now he had those terrible pins and needles everywhere.

He grimaced, muscles tightening reflexively and forced himself to keep his eyes open. It was such a weird feeling to have those organs tickled by a similar sensation.

Whatever he'd expected to find inside the portal this wasn't it.

A mess of color, hues, shades, all smeared together and composed as cotton candy. Balls of strangely gaseous yet solid-looking fluff moved around him, spinning and drifting in distorted nonsense. It was beautiful, it was phantasmal, it was such a complicated experience he couldn't bear to register all of it. But oh, how his brain _wanted _to!

What was that? Why did it move that way? What did this mean about the movement of the electrons? What elements were these? Was that carbon? Hydrogen? Nitrogen? And that smell, an odd mixture of sulfur, mercury, and sugar?

It was all around otherworldly.

It was alien.

Hiro drank in the sight before him, completely forgetting about the portal that had begun to close behind him. He reached into his pocket and, as weightlessness kept him moving forward with the same momentum he'd been at since entering, he pulled out what looked like the handle of a lightsaber.

Twisting the conical top, pressing his fingers into the teeth lining the sides, pulling the cylinder out, he prepared to launch the next portal, he prayed he wouldn't pop out into the middle of the Atlantic ocean. Looking up he prepared to press the activation switch.

That's when he saw it.

Quite clearly it was some kind of man-made machine; round, robotic, sleek, and covered in a strange gray substance. His eyebrows lifted with surprise when he realized what it resembled.

During one of Yo- Callaghan's many shopping trips Hiro had been wandering through the observatory. Ferdinand was asleep- just as he was supposed to be. But he'd been woken by curiosity and had decided a little bit of investigating was in order. He'd discovered the security cameras frozen on one particular scene. Thinking it to be rather odd he'd played it. In horror, Hiro had watched the failed experiment, had watched the girl named Abigail throw her life into the hands of science and lose the gamble due to Krei's ignorance. Disturbed but not too terribly surprised to find the snake at the heart of the disaster from all those years ago Hiro had simply written it off and moved on with a vow not to make the same error.

But now he wondered…

Twisting his body around he kicked towards the pod, flailing against his own momentum. It was a struggle, especially considering that he had nothing to kick off of and he was thinking that he wouldn't be able to reach the pod before something slammed into his back.

"You rat!" an angry voice screamed, echoing in the alien beauty around them. Tumbling forward with a brutal reminder of his fresh aches and blooming bruises, he dizzily whirled right into the pod. A sharp clang sounded as his portal gun smacked into the glass and clumsily, he lifted his head to find a nightmare in front of him.

Callaghan had slipped into the portal after him.

Patches of his skin had been burned, flaming red, so dry and charred the flesh wasn't even able to bleed. His eyes were puffy, crying, and bloodshot- evidence of the smoke he'd been smothered by. His voice was gravely, his body trembling, his trench coat tattered and ruined. Something jangled against his belt- the sound striking a familiar chord with him.

"Callaghan, wait!" Hiro shouted, holding up a hand.

To his surprise the man seemed to do just that, his maddened eyes twitching to the pod he sat upon. Something like recognition bubbled up into those glimmering blue irises, temporarily chasing the darkness away and loosening his expression.

"Someone's in here- I think it's that pilot who was first sent in," the teen reasoned, "she could still be alive!"

But then darkness once again flowered in Callaghan's eyes and his lips lifted into a snarl. Hiro knew he'd lost him even before he'd spoken.

"No," the man hissed, "that's not possible." He was floating towards Hiro. Knowing he didn't have a whole lot of time the young teen brushed a thick sleeve against the glass in front of him to peer inside, pressing his nose hard against the surface.

And sure enough, there she was.

Abigail lay in her pod looking for all the world as though she was merely asleep. Hiro even saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

_She must be in some kind of cyro-sleep, _he thought, listening to the approaching rumble of his enemy.

"Get your hands off that pod, Hiro," Callaghan began warningly, just a little less aggressiveness and madness in his tone. But the younger knew he didn't have a second to spare and returned to fiddling with the device he'd made.

Either this would kill them, give them radiation poisoning, or…

Do something else- he wasn't sure.

"Hiro," the former military officer's voice was almost on top of him now and his trembling, weak, half-numb hands struggled for a few moments to reset the device.

Then his thumb was held over the activation switch and he was looking right into Callaghan's eyes. He could see sorrow and pain and rage in those deep blue pools but he experienced no pity. Hiro could see himself reflected off his pupils, looking fearlessly into the pain of an old man who thought he'd lost everything in the world.

"You've made your mistakes," he said coolly, "I think you should deal with the consequences of them."

Then he pressed the button and all three of them were swallowed up by the rapid growth of another portal.

Closing his eyes and flattening himself against the pod he felt Callaghan grab hold of his jacket. He didn't resist as he was tugged against harshly, almost ripped off the bar he held onto. Instead he simply tightened his grip as gravity once again took hold. His heart fluttered in terror and he wished he could have had time to work on the calibrations because now he didn't know if they'd pop out three feet above the ground or thirty thousand feet above sea level.

The strange alien world fell away, fresh air swiping across his skin and chasing off the peculiar tingles that had wracked his exhausted body. He could taste smoke in the air and was both cold on one side as well as warmth on the other.

Upon reentering a more familiar atmosphere he was almost immediately assaulted by a terrible dropping feeling. Hiro wanted to open his eyes and figure out where they were but his body wouldn't let him. He tensed and held on tightly as they fell, his heart leaping into his throat, head throbbing, tongue feeling bloated against the roof of his mouth, and pain in his jaw as he clamped his teeth shut.

He was met with surprise, terror, and relief as they jolted against the ground soon after, gliding over what sounded like sand before stopping a few feet later.

Once again his ears were ringing, his head was spinning, and his limbs quivering. It wouldn't be long now before he reached his limit and his body finally gave out on him.

But he couldn't let it.

Not yet.

Shakily he rose off the pod, weakly shrugging Callaghan away. The man slid against the mental and fell with an undignified plop into the sands below them, appearing unconscious. He hoped the grains stung against his burns.

"Hiro?!" a familiar voice cried.

Unable to stop the swell of hope he lifted his head and met the eyes of the one person on this world he needed the most right now.

Tawny eyes, ruffled hair, broad shoulders- …Kevlar vest? Ton…fas? And where on earth was the hat he'd gotten him his first year at SFIT?

"Tadashi?"

Pure, undulated joy burst into his big brother's watery eyes and he shook himself free of the dog-pile his friends had him pinned under. Similar expressions of excitement fell across everyone else's faces and in glee, they raced towards him.

As they neared, laughing and crying with relief, Hiro was busy taking stock of his surroundings.

They were on a beach.

In the distance, through mist and gloomy cloud cover he could see the snowy outline of San Fransokyo. The docs were lit by the flashing lights of police vehicles and boats. Above them the thrum of helicopters approached- either to address the survivors or take care of the fires. He couldn't tell. White plumes of warmth forming before his lips, he turned his head. Behind him the heat of the smoldering remains of the lab pressed against his back, he could see columns of black and brown smoke rising into the skies.

_Lucky, _he thought, bewildered, dizzy, and exhausted as he was torn from off the top of the pod and swept up into Tadashi's familiar arms, _that could have gone _way_ worse. _He was quickly being carried away from the pod, as though his brother thought he might vanish into another portal if he stayed too close. But Hiro couldn't correct him before a sharp yelp cut from his throat as he was jostled too harshly, bruises and various abrasions serving scathing reminders to his beaten condition. How could he keep _forgetting _about them? Something must be wrong with his head…

"I'm sorry," Tadashi gasped, holding him firmly, burying his head into his Hiro's hair, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He seemed unable to let go of his brother. And feeling as sick as we was the younger found that he didn't really mind, going as far as to settle in a little and tip his eyes closed.

Yeah, he was sick. (Bacterial Pneumonia sucked the first time, now what about the second time?)

Yeah, he had some fresh wounds. (Cuts, cracked rib, a forearm grated like cheese, probably a slight concussion, several bruises, _definitely _a slight concussion)

Yeah, he would wake up feeling like hell all over again. (And most likely in a hospital bed with Tadashi fussing over him anew.)

And yeah, he was probably going to relapse. (Fuck.)

But, in all honesty, Hiro found he didn't mind-

"Hey, what's that around your neck?" Fingers lightly touched the choker around his throat as Tadashi warmed up the courage he needed to loosen his grip on the younger and take a look.

Suddenly remembering the presence of the bomb Hiro's face went as pale as possible and his eyes expanded until they competed with the size of full-course dinner plates.

"Hi-" his big brother began to ask. But the youngest Hamada was already shoving him away and stumbling back on weak, rubbery legs.

"Stay back!" he rasped and _ow_, that hurt his throat, "stay away!"

"Woah, woah, relax little fella!" Fred began, lowering his voice like he was talking to a skittish animal. Gogo reached out to grab him but even in the state he was in Hiro managed to avoid her.

He was a survivor after all.

Sand tumbled into his shoes but he didn't particularly care as he scrabbled back, struggling against the tilt and sway to the world around him. It was getting worse and keeping his eyes open was quickly becoming a full-fledged war as he struggled with consciousness.

Shoot, his body was starting to give out on him- he'd put it under too much stress!

But he couldn't give up, not now, of all times! If he passed out Tadashi and his friends would be at risk. They'd pick him up again, take him away, and then Callaghan would whip out some spare trigger he'd been saving and hadn't used until now for reasons before he killed them all.

Tadashi-

Tadashi would-

Panic flooded his veins, fought with his lungs, closed him off from air, and he finally fell a few meters away backed up against the pod. It was comforting to know that his friends hadn't tried to chase after him. They were calling his name but all he could hear was that damned buzzing again. Putting a hand to his head and wincing, he swallowed thickly. He tried to yank at the choker.

_Come off, _he pleaded, working his lip between his teeth, _please, please come off! _

Then Tadashi's voice cut through his panicked almost-delirium.

"Hiro," he began soothingly. The younger froze and gently raised his head, eyes shaking in their sockets, chest shuddering, ribs aching. His big brother was crouched right where he'd left him, his knees buried in the sand and expression gentle. "Hey," there were drying tear tracks on his face- had he been _crying? _He'd _never _seen Tadashi cry, "Listen to me; it's going to be alright."

But Hiro shook his head, "No," he whispered, still tugging at the choker, no longer caring about the blood he was smearing across his neck from the cut Ferdinand's goons had carved. Or was it blood from the wound on his head? Come to think of it, there was a lot of it streamed down the right side of his face. When had that gotten there? Weird.

"Hiro Hamada-" the older's voice wasn't harsh but it was stern and demanded his attention.

"Idiot!" Hiro cut him off, frustrated tears stinging his eyes. He'd tried so _hard _and _this _is what he got?! "What the hell do you think you're doing- get out of here!" He fought against his inner child, refusing to break down now, and steeled himself for what could turn into a very grisly future.

"Hey," this time it was Gogo who spoke and her voice was as gentle as it was firm, "we came all this way out here to get you. We're not about to just leave you here just because you have a new necklace." Honey nodded her agreement and Wasabi shifted, as though preparing to run forward and catch Hiro or something.

A laugh that sounded manic even to his own ears bubbled out of his throat and feeling the weight of despair the young teen curled up into a small ball, "'necklace', huh? Wouldn't that be nice." The world was getting darker- nightfall already? Geeze, that fire wasn't helping to keep things lit at all. Hopefully Tadashi brought a flashlight with him, knowing that Boy Scout he probably had.

"Hiro-"

"I've got a bomb strapped to my throat," he croaked weakly, humorlessly, "and she thinks it's a necklace," he sagged, feeling the rush of adrenaline abandon him. He hardly processed the way everyone went stiff, how their eyes grew wide with fear when they realized how much farther they still had to go before they could be safe.

And then even that became the least of their problems when Callaghan decided to regain consciousness.

"Watch out-!"

Or maybe he'd never even lost it because he moved awfully fast for a guy who had just woken up. A scream of pain gurgled out of Hiro's throat as he was forcefully yanked from off the ground and pressed against the curve of the pod behind him. Several pops rumbled from his exposed chest as his cracked rib was strained inside him almost to the point of breaking. Weakly, he pushed his hands against the padded chest before him but his pathetic efforts yielded no results. Callaghan's gloved fingers pressed thickly into his throat and at this point Hiro didn't have enough energy left to fight back.

"P-Professor Callaghan?"

This was it; his body was done and he was out.

He couldn't take anymore.

His vision was starting to abandon him, colors swirling and blurring together in an alien dance of beauty that was rapidly turning blacker than black. Hiro couldn't decide if that was because he was just tired or because he wasn't really breathing anymore. He was having a hard time processing the words exchanged above him. But he caught Callaghan saying something about his daughter and about how much he didn't want to have to hurt Tadashi or his friends but he would if they tried to stop him.

Something hard and cold was pressed against his chest, slipped between the folds of his size 12 jacket.

"Stop-…don't wa…-to do…-is!"

When had his head been submerged underwater?

"…o-…bu-…uo…"

_What?_

_What were they saying?_

_Why is everyone whispering?_

"S…ir-"

"P-…ease…-don…"

"It's time for you to face the consequences."

_Bang!_

The next thing Hiro knew his body was jerking and he was sliding bonelessly to the ground and- woah, who hit him in the face and what was that fuzzy thing and Tadashi was screaming with as much confusion as there was fury and fear in his voice.

As white hot flames lapped at his belly, spreading like embers that had been scooped into his stomach before being sat on, he wondered what had happened. Sand splashed across his face and neck, wind stroked his cheeks and flicked his hair around. Above him there were people grunting, shouting, hissing. Seeking distraction from the one agony that was completely overwhelming everything else he turned his head and, after a brief struggle with vertigo, caught sight of several figures furiously wrestling a little ways away. There was this weird, blurry blue light that zipped back and forth faster than his groggy eyes could follow. There was an odd figure that appeared one moment and then disappeared the next like magic. Yet still one more threw stuff that exploded into vibrant colors and strange thicknesses.

Kind of felt like he was watching some strange new anime…

His attempt to find distraction, however, proved useless as the burning flames roared across his abdomen like a beast after his flesh and as something heavy landed beside him, Hiro's curiosity guided his fingers to his belly. He could hear a voice trying to talk to him and he wondered were Tadashi was as he shakily dipped his fingers into an oddly warm puddle forming against his stomach.

"Hey, hey, hey, hold on, don't do that, ok?" the voice said quickly, waveringly, and as he struggled to keep up with it something grabbed his wrist. Had night fallen again or had he just closed his eyes? That must be it because he could see stars now. Or were they planets? They flashed like them- but were planets supposed to look distinctly blue and red?

Oh well, at least he could breathe better now, right?

Then something pressed against his stomach and, had he the energy, Hiro would have screamed from the agony. He barely managed to stiffen and arch his back, clacking his jaws together in an effort to cage in his groans of pain.

"It's okay, it's okay," the voice said, "I've got you, Otouto, I've got you. We're gunna have Baymax fix you up but I need you to hold on, alright? Alright. Here we go, hold on-"

Time became completely insubstantial to Hiro after that.

He came in and out of consciousness periodically.

People were shouting constantly.

"H-…giv-…-_dying?!_"

There was blood and vomit all over the place.

"Ho-…-im…!"

"It-…o-ay, Hiro…I-…ot you-…I got-…ou."

Sometimes he could hear a mechanical voice among everything else.

"Hiro's blo-…ressure has drop-… and he has gon-…shock-"

After a while he caught the sound of erratic beeping, wheezing, pathetic gasping, and buzzing. There were hands all over him and they were cold and wet and impersonal and they felt like the men who had cut him up after that thing at that time. He was too tired and confused to fight anymore though. He hurt so much he wondered if he was in hell.

_Sorry, _he remembered thinking, _I let you down, Tada-nii. This might, _something pricked into his throat, his wrist, his bicep, his thigh, and he twitched just a little at all those sensations, _really be it for me…_

But then something remarkably warm against his flesh had pressed into his forehead amidst the confusion. Driven by some instinct, some irrefutable desire- no, _need_\- to see what caused it, he managed to pry his eyes open just a little. He could lift them barely even a hair's breadth open but it was all he'd needed.

Not even a full inch from his face a pair of tawny eyes stared into his own. Warm pools softer than the tips of a hawk's wings, more enveloping than the sky, and as comforting as the presence of a fire during a snow storm grabbed him and held him there.

There were things in his throat, around his face, inside his nose. Hands on his arms, chest, legs, hips, and all this motion, all this activity would have overwhelmed him completely if that gaze had not been there to hold him down. Hiro wasn't exactly sure how he would have managed to escape but he knew, without a doubt, that he'd have gone _somewhere _without his anchor, his _rock_.

The gaze never wavered, burning into his own until Hiro was too weak to keep his eyes open.

And through delirium, pain, and nightmares they were always there to listen to his ramblings and medicated confessions, to ground him, to hold him to the earth.

They were there when he asked for his big brother.

They were there when he said he was dying.

They were there he relived the nightmare behind his "self-inflicted" scars.

They were _always_ there…

Always.

* * *

_*relieved gasp* One chapter left and then we all get our epilogue._

_But yeah, Hiro's not totally useless! He can help himself (sorta)…_

_Why am I allowed to write stuff? Please stop me. Please._

_I've tortured and traumatized a 14 year old in about 11 ways, taunted and tortured his desperate big brother, KILLED about a DOZEN people, and driven a poor old professor crazy. (Among other things!) If this even a story or is this me hurting people? Honestly… *stealthily climbs aboard the whump boat* *whispers* but it's just so much _fun.

_Anyway, the 'O' and 'X' thing isn't terribly necessary any more. I only used that to see if I should still post stuff or not but it seems to me that enough of you like this story that I don't need to worry about it. (Unless everyone _hated _last chapter and I accidentally started a war with the fandom. Which MIGHT be a significant problem. ;_; ) If you want to leave me an 'O' or an 'X' though I suppose you can? _

_Meh._

_Anyway, cheers! _

_My break is basically over and I have work tomorrow so I may not post until Monday but we'll see. :)_


	21. Iyasu

"_Be Still" by The Fray._

_Or any sad song in general._

* * *

-Chapter 20-

\- 癒す -

-Iyasu-

* * *

_[?]_

_Beep…_

Voices.

_Beep…_

People were speaking.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

He couldn't really understand.

_Beep…_

"-No!" Desperate refusal.

_Beep…_

"Ma'am-" Calm. Collected. Impersonal.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

A heave. The rustle of clothing.

_Beep…_

"No-" A hiccup and a shuddering gasp, "N-"

_Beep…_

He struggled to hear her, "I alm-st lost one- _not _goin-…ose the other!" Shaky. Tight. Painful.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

Someone was crying.

_Beep…_

Aunt Cass.

* * *

_[?]_

_Beep…_

Silence.

_Beep…_

Then the shuffle of clothing.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

The creak of a chair.

_Beep…_

Pressure beside him.

_Beep…_

More shuffling. More pressurized areas.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

Arms wrapped around him.

_Beep…_

They pulled him close against a soft wall of warmth.

_Beep…_

Safety. Familiarity. Solid comfort. He didn't know who it was for.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

"Sshh," a shuddering voice. Male. "Sshh, I've got you."

_Beep…_

Wind in his hair.

_Beep…_

"You're not going anywhere, Otouto."

Darkness took him again.

* * *

_[?]_

_Beep…_

Nothing.

_Beep._

Nothing but two, foreign presences.

_Beep-_

_Hiss…_

A male. And a female.

_Beep.._

The scent of fresh cherry blossoms.

_-Beep…_

And ocean salt.

_Beep-_

_Hiss..._

It was too hot.

_Beep…beep..beepbeep_

He tried to reach for them. The pain was too much and it was growing. He was too tired to fight it.

_Help… please…it hurts!_

_Beepbeepbeepbeep_

Something pricked his arm. The figures never moved.

_Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep._

_Mom…_

His fingers grasped soft fabric in desperate fistfuls.

_Dad…_

He gasped. Threw his back into the air. Went limp.

_Beepbeepbeepbee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

"-e's-… cardi-c arr-st!"

_Please!_

There was something against his mouth.

_Please!_

A breeze across his bare, unmoving chest.

_**Please!**_

"-lear!"

He jerked against the mattress.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

_**IT HURTS!**_

Then warmth grabbed his hand.

Tawny eyes flickered before him- just for a moment.

He could see tears and panic and desperation-

_Tadashi._

_-Beep._

* * *

_[?]_

Shuffling.

Whispers.

"How is he?"

Silence.

Deliberation.

A burn across his face.

"Still fighting."

Shifting.

Movement.

"Do you think he'll win?"

Wind.

Silence.

"I don't know…"

* * *

_[?]_

"They're saying you're doing better."

A voice. Quiet, respectful of the one sleeping.

"But just in case we should still be ready for anything."

Fingers combing through his hair.

Silence.

Then a sigh.

The squelch of leather beneath the speaker's weight.

"Man, if you could see the amount of stuff they have you hooked up to…"

No response.

A brief flicker of pain across his abdomen.

A hand grasped his and squeezed gently.

Needles shifted underneath his skin.

"It makes you look like a robot."

Silence.

Sweat rolling down his temple.

Air pushing forcefully into his lungs.

Fingers combing through his hair.

A throat being cleared.

A palm against his too-warm-head.

"I need you to get better, bonehead."

Then darkness again.

* * *

_[?]_

Sloshing of water.

Hushed voices.

The flap of fabric.

"-ever…-roke?"

The snap of a wet cloth.

Cool moisture dribbling over his skin.

"Mm'hmm."

* * *

_[?]_

"Alright, buddy!" something plopped into a chair beside him, "Robert Callaghan is on trial for kidnapping and attempted murder, Abigail is recovering from a coma, and your name is all over the place. I think it's about time you woke up!" Eager. Hopeful.

Nothing.

Silence.

…

A sigh.

"Fine." Resignation. Absent minded fingers in his hair, "The doctors took you off those crazy sleeping meds earlier this morning but if you want to keep napping…" Unended. Patient. Hurting.

The fingers paused.

Then they continued.

"Aunt Cass and I will still be here when you decide to wake up." Choked despair.

* * *

_[?]_

There was a melody.

Warmth around his wrist.

Gentle strokes tickling the flesh above his veins.

They moved with the rhythm of a familiar hymn.

The song his Aunt used to sing to him when he'd slept in too much.

No.

He didn't want to wake up yet.

Sh.

But the sound kept going.

He fell asleep anyway.

…

* * *

_[?]_

_[Hiro]_

It was quiet when he first started breaching the surface of lucidity.

Quiet, but not silent.

He could hear the faint sounds of machines at work; various buzzes, hissing, and a rhythmic beep that seemed only to keep him sedated even longer. A thrum and pitter patter against a nearby window signaled heavy rainfall. Distantly there was the clop of feet passing back and forth over linoleum- though they were few and far between. Sometimes he'd hear a very faint _ding _or the quiet sound of people talking too.

Perhaps the most striking sound, however, was the one whooshing in and out beside his arm. His interest in the noise was only piqued by the fleshy warmth wrapped loosely around his hand, fingers around his latched on even as their owner slept obliviously.

Tired but not entirely willing to go back to sleep, Hiro shifted. Moving felt weird and sent little tingles up and down his body but it wasn't necessarily painful yet. Certain parts of him just felt a little heavy, bound tightly, and numb. He swallowed and something moved against his throat, leading him to realize that it was wrapped up. Confusion tightened across his brow and he swallowed again experimentally. What was that? He crinkled his nose and very nearly sneezed when he felt movement inside his nostrils. Then he realized air was rushing through the facial feature. Wait a minute.

His fingers twitched and something across the back of his left hand tingled uncomfortably, like there was something flat and sticky draped across it. At the very center he found the most discomfort. These sensations were echoed in the crook of his right arm.

Taking a deep breath, he turned his head. Only to stutter through a choking cough that rippled across his aching chest and pooled into a buzzing pain at his belly. His face contorted, small, rubbery, circular objects bouncing across his torso as he temporarily fought for control and tried to ignore the irritated backdrop of beeping.

_Gaaa__**ahhhhhh, **_it _hurt!_

When the brief battle was over and he was left just a little bit winded with faint painful echoes throbbing through him, he finally decided it was time to open his eyes and figure out what was causing all these sensations.

The first thing he saw was the tiled ceiling above him. It was only dimly illuminated by an orange light that came from his right and he turned to see it. At his bedside was a paper lantern- specifically the electric one from Tadashi's side of the room. Confused, he furrowed his brow a little before he caught sight of a blue book with red trimmings beside it.

_Coma: A Healing Journey _by Amy Mindell, it was called. Several other books were there as well, all of them detailing the brain or some kind of medical study he didn't fully understand in his half-awake state. His eyes caught sight of a vibrant array of flowers, a black phone sitting peacefully in its cradle, and his big brother's cell. It was plugged into one of the _many _outlets just above the nightstand.

Then his vision trailed down the length of his right arm, roaming over the white swath of bandages wrapped around cheese-grated forearm. He found an IV stationed at the crook his arm just beyond the gauze, feeding blood into him and held in place with medical tape.

A soft sigh caught his attention and his eyes flickered down farther. His breath got stuck in his burning throat when he saw who was there.

With his face half buried into Hiro's hand- which he had clutched in his own- and half into the sheets, Tadashi Hamada slept hunched over the bed. Blinking groggily, starting to feel like this was as awake as he was going to get, he let an amused smile perk his lips and quirk an eyebrow.

Judging by the ruffled looking hair, unshaven face, and light shade of bruises underneath his eyes exacerbated by the dim gloom, his brother had been with him for a while now. Hiro wished he had his phone- he'd love to get a photograph of this and caption it with "what beauty, what grace."* But then Tadashi shifted and tightened his grip on his baby brother's hand. His smile fell a little when he caught sight of his sibling's school bag discarded on the white couch behind him with various papers and text books piled neatly alongside it.

_Good, _he thought with approval, _he didn't miss school for me. _As Tadashi slept on Hiro continued to eye his hospital room. It was smaller than the last one but he found he didn't mind terribly much. It made things cozier.

Above and behind the couch was a large window that showed off the close, shadowed skyscrapers of San Fransokyo, indicating that he was on one of the uppermost floors. The walls were a bland white and his sheets a soft sky blue with checkered shades of the same color forming a pattern across it. The mattress underneath him was surprisingly soft and the sheets were more comfortable than he'd imagined. At the bottom of the bed he found a familiar white and gray-striped blanket. He knew just by looking at it that it wasn't one of the hospital's and when he looked over he found his own blue striped bed sheet folded on the farthest end of the couch.

Now he wondered how many nights Tadashi had spent here with him.

A half-sigh made its way past his lips before he found the plasma TV set on the wall in front of him. That put a little smile on his face with the promise of not being terribly bored out his mind during his no-doubt lengthy stay. Looking to the left he saw the door and a clock as well as few wooden shelves built into the corner farthest from him. He also caught sight of the EKG machine, IV bags, and various other monitors beside him. For a little while he watched his vitals, aware that his blood pressure wasn't where it was supposed to be, his oxygen intake was functioning the way it was only because of the nasal cannula, and his temperature was a few degrees too high to be healthy. His stomach twisted a bit at the sight of the second IV plugged into the back of his left hand and feeding a transparent liquid into his veins. He lifted the appendage up and narrowed his eyes on the hospital bracelet, wanting to know where he was. But it was too dark and his vision too uncooperative for him to make it out properly.

Hiro followed other wires and cables, connecting to various parts of his body and felt his heartrate pick up a little at the sight. So, he might not be in intensive care but he still wasn't in perfect condition. At least he didn't have an oxygen mask or anything, his throat felt dry enough as is. Gingerly turning his head back to Tadashi he set about to absorbing every detail of his face.

The high cheekbones, the short stubble, mussy black hair, and peace that evened out all his concentrated wrinkles. He watched his brother sleep tranquilly and wondered if he wanted to do the same yet.

But with every assisted breath he took the tickle of electrodes on his chest reminded him just how much of that he'd probably been doing already. Every time he swallowed and the bandages around his throat moved he was forced to address how much damage his wounds had probably caused him and those around him.

He couldn't remember a whole lot and what he did remember was short and confusing. There had been something round pressed against his stomach as Callaghan stood over him and Tadashi had been shouting. Then there was a loud _bang_ and he'd fallen. That's where things got a bit too fuzzy for him to make any sense of but, from what he could gather, he'd most likely been shot.

Lightly chewing on the inside of his cheek he carefully lifted his left hand and tried to slip it underneath the sheets. It was a little tricky to do with the tubes but he managed. Once his fingers fell over his belly he knew for certain that his assumption had been correct.

Here he found the most padding, wrapped in gauze and muting his ability to feel as sharply as usual. Of all places to get shot, why did it have to be _there? _The pain had been even worse than cracking a rib!

Now working his lip between his teeth he took a shuddering breath. Much of what he did remember orbited around a pain so terrible it fell into its very own category. It had been so bad all he'd wanted to do was die.

Reflexively tightening his right hand he closed his eyes firmly. He could still feel that mind-crushing _fire _in his memory, flickering over the healing wound on his stomach.

"Mmm," The sound of Tadashi's voice made him immediately release his grip. Hiro's eyes flickered open as his big brother shifted and sucked in a deep, whispering, husky breath. He lifted himself off the bed with a series of cracks erupting out of his back, yawning largely and pulling his shoulders around in a restrained stretch. Watching his brother run his free hand across his face and mutter a slight curse at the discovery of stubble, Hiro withheld a sleepy smile. Tadashi dug his palm into his eyes in turn and squeezed his little brother's hand gently. "Sorry," he whispered and Hiro knew he wasn't expecting a reply, "Shouldn't have sworn like that."

"Even after all these years I still don't understand why you apologize for cursing," he told him, smirking, despite the familiar croak his voice was met with, when his big brother froze , "I mean, can you even _imagine _the sort of stuff I heard as a bot fighter?"

Both of Tadashi's eyes were open now and latched onto Hiro's like he could physically hold him in place with them. He seemed unable to speak, mouth agape and the barest of smiles daring to rip across his face.

"Mornin'," Hiro greeted raspily, grinning.

Half a second later he had been scooped up, nest of wires and all, into his big brother's arms. He sucked in a breath half of surprise and half of pain, cringing and biting his lip as he was jostled.

"W-woah," he squeaked, grunting as his wounds were exacerbated and squirming as his bigger sibling threw himself into the bed to snuggle up with him.

"Hiro," Tadashi gasped and he froze at the soft sound of his voice, "Hiro, Hiro, Hiro."

His expression turned into one of amusement and fondness then as his brother settled awkwardly beside him.

"Yes?" he replied slyly, "Yes? Yes? Yes?" His attempt to goad Tadashi both failed and succeeded when the older grabbed his ear and gave it a firm yank. "Ow!-OWowowowowow!"

"Don't you _dare _do _anything _like that _**ever**_again!" he was startled by the anger in his brother's voice. "You understand me, Hiro?! Never again!" *

Confusion swirled around in him and he swam through his memories in search of something he could have been held responsible for. What had he done wrong? The list he ended up with didn't really help much;

Option a) blowing up a laboratory.

Option b) jumping into a dangerous, untested science experiment.

Option c) …driving his favorite professor crazy? But was that really his fault?

A soft, frustrated grumble burbled inside his throat and he looked past the tangle of sheets, arms, and cords to the monitors on his right. What kind of drugs did they have him on right now?

Tadashi buried his face into the crook of Hiro's shoulder and he flinched with surprise. Despite himself, in the dim lighting, unfamiliar room, doped up and confused he found himself feeling the first traces of fear. Could it be that he was hallucinating and this wasn't his brother at all? Was he dreaming?

"T-T," he bit his lip and swallowed, "Hey, Tadashi- what's, um, what's wrong?"

_Then _his brother seemed to realize what he was doing. Lifting his head suddenly, he observed his little sibling, noticing the fear in his voice and posture, before wriggling out from under him and sheepishly plopping back into his chair at Hiro's bedside.

"Sorry," he said, a flush of embarrassment crossing over his face, "I guess I've picked up a big-brother complex…"

A little more relaxed now that he had his space back the younger managed a somewhat shaky smile; that sounded more like the Tadashi he knew.

"Like you didn't have one before, knucklehead," he said. Hiro was pleased to see a small smile cross onto his older brother's face at that one.

"Hey, only I'm allowed to call _you _that," Tadashi retorted.

"Says what rule?" the teen demanded, cocking his head a little only to wince and hiss a bit at the sting of pain his movement was met with. He tried to play it off with a grin but it was obvious to him that Tadashi had noticed it.

With a frown the older leaned forward and slipped a hand over his brow, concern etched into his face as he examined the bandages.

"How do you feel?" he asked softly, "What hurts?"

But Hiro shrugged him away, exasperated when the older turned his attention to the monitors instead, "I'm alright, Tadashi." He took in the look of analysis on his elder's face, aware of the possibility that his words had not reached him. His big brother was lost in a world of numbers and medical magic and there wasn't a whole lot Hiro could say to get him back.

So he opted for something more physical and threw his pillow into Tadashi's face with much less force than he'd of wanted.

"He-" the older sputtered with surprise, grabbing the half fluffy, half flat pillow, "Hiro!"

"Would you relax?" his little brother demanded, somewhat out of breath already, "You're stressing _me _out."

It looked for a moment like Tadashi just might argue but a second later his shoulders slumped and he fell back in his chair, head draped over the backrest and hands washing down his face.

"I'm sorry," he groaned, "these past few days have just been _very long._"

"You're telling me," Hiro agreed with a slight wheeze, slumping back and gently lowering his head to the mattress. His stomach was starting to hurt, "Hey, what time is it?"

A yawn erupted from his brother as he turned to his phone, pressing a button on the side before answering his sibling's question, "Almost 3 AM." He shifted and stretched with a light hum, "you should get some sleep, Bonehead, you need it."

"Hmm," Hiro hummed his disproval, refusing to let his eyes drop any more than they already had, "Not yet."

"Hiro-"

"No, I wanna know what's been happening. How long have I been out for?" He forced away the blurry film that was starting to cover his eyes, rubbing a hand into his eyes and ignoring the pinch of his IV.

For several moments Tadashi simply watched him, chewing on his decision thoughtfully. Finally he emitted a long sigh of defeat before leaning forward, rubbing the back his head and closing his eyes.

"Fine, fine," he murmured, "You've been in the hospital for about a week now, does that answer your question?"

"Yeah, but only the first one," Hiro huffed, coughing a little at the stress the move put on his recovering lungs, "Are the others okay? What about Aunt Cass?"

Tadashi settled in and fought off a yawn before he replied, "Everyone is fine but you, Hiro. And Aunt Cass had to go back to the café but she'll be back for lunch today."

"What about the lab? And Ferdinand and his goons? Where did that girl go? What hospital is this?"

"Woah, woah, easy there, Tiger, one question at a time," his older brother held his hands up in defense, waiting for the younger to settle before answering him, "okay, in order; 1) If by "the lab" you mean the place where you were being held it's gone. 2) What? 3) Do you mean Abigail? She's at the San Fransokyo Overlake Emergency Center recovering from cyro-sleep. 4) _You're _at the San Fransokyo Intensive Emergency Hospital downtown. They," here his brother paused and looked a bit uneasy, "couldn't treat you anywhere else so they flew you here from Watanuki Island." He gave his brother a moment to let the details sink in before he asked his own question, "Hiro, who's Ferdinand?" Tadashi didn't really like the way his little brother tensed up but he wasn't about to rescind his query.

He had to know from him- not the police, not Callaghan, and not medicated, totally-out-of-it baby brother from before.

But his sibling struggled to answer and looked away, shifting uneasily until Tadashi determined that he needed a bit of push.

With a soft, sympathetic sigh, he leaned forward and forced Hiro to meet his eyes, "does he have something to do with those scars under your arm?" Fear flashed through the younger and he tensed.

Of course, he tried to play it off and produced a shaky smile, "W-what do you mean, Tadashi?"

"You know what," his brother said, holding his gaze steady.

Hiro's eyes were wide and his face a little paler but Tadashi never looked away. As his baby brother swallowed thickly, eyes flickering towards the door as though seeking escape, he found his answer. Gently and so smoothly he wouldn't have left any wakes even if he'd been up to his shoulders in water, the oldest Hamada child embraced the youngest. It hurt him when Hiro tensed up and stirred a stew of emotions, most predominantly anger, in his gut but even so Tadashi didn't move away. Sat a little awkwardly on the mattress with one hand on his brother's back and the other running through his hair he waited for him to relax.

After what felt like forever his shattered baby Otouto leaned into his touch, gathering hesitant fistfuls of his shirt in hands that threatened to shake. He could feel Hiro swallow nervously before he spoke, so softly Tadashi almost didn't hear him, "I'm sorry." There was the softest of sniffs, "I'm sorry, Tadashi."

Rubbing soft circles into his back the older sibling closed his eyes and whispered, "What for, Bonehead?"

Hiro wasn't an emotional kid. He was a robitsist and a science enthusiast, not an artists or writer. He didn't know how to interperate his feelings half the time, let alone properly express emotion. So it didn't really surprise him when his little brother shook his head and said, "I don't know but I'm sorry- so, so sorry."

Lucky for him his big brother was a good translator.

The smallest of smiles touched his lips and he lowered his head, blowing a warm gust of air across the back of his brother's neck. An immediate shudder rolled across his shoulders and Hiro jerked back, slapping a hand over the area and causing the IV in his hand to twist about.

He wasn't crying but if his eyes looked just a little bit red in the dim lamp light Tadashi didn't say anything about it.

"If anyone ever tries to hurt you, you know you can come to me, right?" he asked him sincerely. Hiro nodded and tore his gaze away, unable to bear whatever judgment might be in his elder brother's eyes. "That also means that if anyone _has _hurt you, you can still come to me, doesn't it?" That seemed to catch his brother off guard a little and he turned to him, looking up at Tadashi from underneath a fringe of black. "Doesn't it?" he asked when Hiro didn't reply.

"I-I guess?"

"I won't judge you and I won't ask any questions if you're not ready to answer them. Just," he had to pause and take a deep breath before continuing, "just know that you don't have to be upset alone. Aunt Cass and I are here- and so is Gogo, Wasabi, Fred, and Honey Lemon-"

Hiro snorted disbelievingly at that, hesitant hope glimmering in his eyes, "those are _your _friends, baka."

A quick grin slipped onto his face and he chuckled quietly, "That's not what I saw. You should have seen the way those guys fought to get you back. They were right there with me as I looked for you, every step of the way. If they didn't care about you they never would have come along." His little brother blinked and let a small smile touch his lips, swallowing as he rubbed his hand against his eyes. "You're not alone anymore, ok?" Without looking at his older brother's face Hiro nodded his affirmation and let his head drop against Tadashi's collar bone.

The older brother knew without looking that he was loosing his little brother to the throes of restful sleep and so he started combing his fingers through the black tangles, rubbing the digits against the back of Hiro's head in a gentle massage. The warmth was comforting underneath his hands and he began to rock back and forth, humming as he went.

In his drowsiness, his tongue slipped, "Nii-san?"

Tadashi quickly recovered from his surprise, happiness swelling inside him at the way he'd been addressed, "What's up?"

"What happened to Callaghan."

Boom.

There goes happiness.

Ducking his head against Hiro's he heaved a heavy sigh, heart twisting in the pain of betrayal. He hadn't known Ferdinand very well, having only heard about him briefly in passing stories and he'd only ever met him a few times. From what he knew, though, that old tram driver had meant as much to Hiro as Callaghan had to him.

He tightened his hold on the younger, "Don't worry about that right now, Otouto. I won't let him get you."

It was a testament to just how far the younger was when he nodded his head against Tadashi's chest, "kay, tell later."

He grimaced a bit, knowing he would have to tell his brother of Callaghan's imprisonment eventually, and said, "ok. Now go to slee-"

But Hiro was already out.

Listening to the soft sound of his little brother breathing peacefully, Tadashi smiled and let himself be soothed by each heartbeat his monitor recorded.

_Beep…_

They were okay.

_Beep…_

They were safe.

_Beep…_

They had won.

_Beep._

-End-

* * *

_*oh _that _would make some cute art~ Someone draw this or I will! Speaking of which, I'm a little confused. Half a dozen of you have asked me if it's okay to draw/write fanart/stories for this and I've said "yeh, just credit me please and give me a link!" and only one or two of you have produced anything. I'm /not/ offended! I'm just confused, it's okay if you got bored and forgot or just flat out lost interest. Fanart is super cool but I really just want you guys to be happy. ;3;_

_*Let's all take a moment to appreciate how many times Tadashi almost lost his baby bro throughout the course of this story. _

_BOOM! My goodness, what an adventure that was! I really enjoyed the ride despite a few bumps along the way. _

_Thanks so much everyone for plopping down and enjoying the story with me! It really warms my heart to see so many people having _such _a good time. I always love to see people happy no matter if I am the cause of it or not. _

_Anyway, we've gone _one _more chapter left to go and then the story closes. Is there anything embarrassing I missed? Let me know! _

_Cheers!_


	22. Epilogue

_Because people have been asking: next chapter of _The Ginko Riots _will be coming out soon. _Eibetsu _has kept me busy so I haven't had much time for it but I think I can squeeze in one or two more updates before all hell breaks loose in my life once again. X)_

_I'm sorry if I missed anything major in this story, feeling kinda wonky. exe_

_To: _thetimehasreturned3 _I can't answer your review, dear, until you turn on your PM permissions. :) Find it under your account settings!_

* * *

-His Breath-

-EPILOGUE-

_[7:52 AM]_

_[Tadashi]_

His hands were clutched into fists as he stood glaring at the door with the labeled plaque; _Basic Robotics Tools and Uses _and below it the professor's name, _Prof. Haruka Shinji._ Staring at the name and listening to the shuffle of students filtering out of the class, Tadashi tried to relax. He couldn't let all his hard work and planning go to waste. But still the memories echoed in his head and he struggled with his emotions.

"_Hey," _he'd whispered to his obviously delirious younger brother several weeks before, staring into vacant, foggy eyes, _"Can you tell me how you hurt your arm, bud?"_

For a long moment Hiro had just sort of stared at him before giving his drunken reply, _"cheese graver."_

A light laugh had quietly bubbled out of Tadashi's throat and he'd gently poked his little brother's nose, _"No, no, Otouto. I meant your other arm."_

Again it had taken him several moments of thinking, staring at his sibling as though through a fogged up window pane before any reply had escaped him. Surrounded by wires, cords, breathing machines, an EKG, etc, Hiro had looked so small and his behavior hadn't helped the image at all.

"_Purpble…?" _he'd asked, wrestling with his uncooperative tongue.

"_Don't stick your tongue out at me," _Tadashi had said, wrapping his hand in a cloth and prodding his brother's tongue until it disappeared back inside his mouth. _"And yeah, the purple bruise on your arm. Who gave that to you?"_

He tried to be prepared for any response but his efforts didn't really seem to matter, especially because this time Hiro didn't give him very long before he replied, _"Shin…ji-sensayyy?"_

Tadashi's very first thought was that his brother hadn't understood him because there was no way a _teacher _could have harmed his _student! _So he'd asked again and, of course, he received the same answer.

Then he'd remembered that his own professor was the reason his brother was in intensive care.

It had made more sense after that.

Now, almost a full month later, he stood at the door waiting for professor Shinji's students to finish filtering out before he entered the room. He only had a few minutes before he had to be in his own class but he didn't care if he'd be late. Tadashi needed to deal with this, after all.

Wading through his bottled displeasure he snuck into the room and cast his gaze about, looking for his brother's former teacher. Being stuck in the hospital with bacterial pneumonia and a bullet wound in his gut had meant that Hiro had had to drop out of his classes and take this quarter off. He had _not _been happy about that. It wasn't until Tadashi came in with a pass from the school's director granting the younger two options that he'd calmed down about it.

Either A) he could retake all his classes or B) if he thought he could do it, he was allowed to take all the finals despite his absence. If he passed every single one of them he could still get credit for the classes and move on. If he didn't succeed then he'd have to go with option A.

Finally, Tadashi's gaze landed on the salt-and-pepper-haired teacher cleaning off the white board. He'd done a bit of research on the man before coming in and had found out that, indeed, he was an aggressive man. The thickness of his biceps, rounded shoulders, and bold stature might have been intimidating to anyone else but Tadashi was a black belt on a vengeance run. Besides, not only was Wasabi bigger than this guy but he'd also encountered nastier people from picking Hiro out of bot fights.

"Shinji-san?" he called to the teacher as the last student fluttered out, seeming to know what the resident school star was here for.

"Hmm?" the older replied, wiping away the last of the marker on the white board before turning around. "Oh! You're Hiro-kun's older brother; Tadashi-san, yes?" The use of formalities made him cringe internally but he worked hard to keep a straight face and even bowed a little in reply.

"I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances," he replied perhaps a little too icily. Quickly, the eldest Hamada reigned in his temper and took a deep breath.

Confusion touched the Japanese man's eyes and he set the eraser on the podium, looking Tadashi up and down as though he was examining a challenger. Struck by the rude motion he was reminded that this teacher was of noble decent and therefore felt more inclined than others.

"What circumstances do you mean, Tadashi-san?" Shinji raised his chin a little and looked him in the eye, "Are you talking about your brother's hospitalization." Inwardly bristling at the rude behavior Tadashi took a deep breath but held his tongue. He didn't trust himself to speak right now. After a moment the larger individual leaned off the podium and stepped around it so he could stand in front of the younger. "It's a shame that he had to drop out but it couldn't be helped. If your brother couldn't manage to take care of himself with the minimized work I gave him then it's better that he gave up." He looked Tadashi over again, eyes briefly landing on the duffle bag over his shoulder, "I hope you're not here to persuade me to give him a passing grade on his exam, Tadashi-san."

The implications behind that sentence made his blood boil and Tadashi clenched his fists as hard as he could. His hands were so tight that his shoulder's shook. It made him glad that he had stored the recorder in his cardigan's breast pocket.

"Shinji-san," he bit, took a deep breath, and then continued at a more level tone, "Are you saying that you plan on failing my little brother regardless of the correctness behind his answers?"

Shinji wasn't fazed, pocketing his hands and leaning back against the lectern behind him, "No need for such disrespect, Tadashi. Your brother may be smart but there's no way he'll pass with the number of lessons he's missed. And even when he _was _attending my classes he struggled."

Knowing full well that the Japanese professor was ridiculing him by addressing Tadashi casually something inside him cracked. He smiled sweetly and straightened his back, bobbing his head in sarcastic respect as he stood at the front of the lecture hall. The older professor didn't seem to notice that.

"What do you mean by that, Shinji-sensei?" he asked, meeting his even gaze.

Apparently pleased by the upped honorific, the professor smiled back, "Your brother was eager to learn but he often disrupted the class and challenged my authority. Quite frankly, I don't think he was comfortable with being wrong about anything."

Biting down on his tongue, Tadashi nodded and forced an apologetic chuckle, "Hiro doesn't have the same etiquette that I do, sensei. Our parents passed away before it could be taught to him." _Lies, _he thought, _that little runt has such a good understanding of our Japanese customs that he uses them to make fun of people. _

"Perhaps you should teach him then," Shinji pointed out, shifting against his resting place, "You _are _his elder, after all."

And this was Tadashi's chance. Swallowing his nervousness and trying not be sickened by the words he spoke he held out the bait, "Speaking of, Shinji-sensei, I have a question for you."

"Hmm?" the freshman teacher hummed, looking over some papers he'd taken off the lectern.

"Hiro's been," he paused, pretending to search for the right words. He'd actually practiced this whole thing several times with Gogo, wanting to make sure he was convincing, "acting out," he finished carefully. Shinji raised his head and quirked a brow, "He's been disrespectful over the course of his recovery and no matter what I do he won't listen to me. Our parents didn't show me how to deal with this kind of behavior but you're a true-blood Japanese man. I was hoping that you might have some suggestions." His throat stung.

He forced himself to keep a level head as a light burst to life inside Shinji's eyes.

"Ohoh~" he whistled, putting the papers away, "has he now?" Tadashi didn't have it in him to reply, instead he just focused on the weight of the recorder in his pocket. "Well, I've got a few responsible suggestions up my sleeve. It might seem drastic but a few licks with the belt has always worked before. For every impolite word he says just give him ten lashes across the arm. If he struggles, give him ten more."

Tadashi swallowed his rage, glad to know that this man didn't have any children of his own.

"Sensei-"

"You'll know you're hitting him hard enough when you see bruises," the professor finished.

_Almost there, _Tadashi promised himself, _almost._

He withdrew his phone then and took a step forward, "Do you mean it should look like this?" Then he showed Shinji the picture he'd taken of Hiro's bruised arm shortly after his brother had fallen asleep in his lab so long ago- right before he'd taken him home with Wasabi.

"Ahah!" the man exclaimed upon seeing the image, "Yes, they should look like that within an hour."

"I," he coughed a little, "see. Sensei," the honorific tasted like dirt on his tongue, "Hiro tells me that you're the one who did this and you mentioned that he was trouble in class. Can you tell me what you mean?" Shinji nodded, still examining the picture and seeming brutally satisfied.

"I remember," he said, "I was teaching the class about the right way to use a robotic welding system and he embarrassed me in front of my students. I grabbed Hiro-me and hauled him out of the lecture hall shortly after."*

"So this is your doing?" Tadashi didn't restrain the ice in his voice. This man had just used one of the most derogatory honorifics on his brother _as he confessed to intentionally hurting him._

Startled by the sudden change in tone the professor looked up, "Yes, I did." He paused, struggling to understand the intensity behind the oldest Hamada's voice, "Don't worry, it's not too hard to leave a bruise like that once you're in shape."

But Tadashi hardly reacted positively to that. Instead, he sighed and released a relieved smile, "Whew," he breathed, deflating against a nearby desk, "I thought it was going to take me forever to get a confession out of you. Turns out you're as chatty as Hiro tells me you are." Then he took the recorder out of his pocket and showed it off with a smirk. "Thanks for being so compliant, Shinji-_sensei._"

Rage twisted in the man's eyes and he stood straight, "What is the meaning of this?!"

Tadashi turned the recorder off and put it away before he gave his reply, "You know it's against school policy to harm a student right?"

"Wha-"

"I might not be able to get you thrown in jail, Shinji-kouhai, but this will at the very least get you fired," savage delight lit up inside his chest at the look on the man's face. He looked positively _livid._*

"You-" he spat in rage but Tadashi wasn't about to let him finish.

"I might only be half Japanese," he could feel the malice in his own eyes as he stepped forward, "But I'm not uneducated and neither is my little brother. I know Hiro can be impatient and stubborn but at least he actually _knows_ how to be polite at the right times- unlike yourself. Obviously, you're not as smart as him so I will make myself as clear as I can;"

By this time, despite the difference in height, Tadashi was looming over him threateningly. They were more or less at eye-level face-to-face like this and he was so close there was about an inch of space between their noses.

Shinji was rightfully frozen with terror.

"If I see you anywhere near my little brother again," he growled, pausing to let the older man tremble for a moment, "I will make you _hurt_." Tawny eyes were aglow with a passionate flame, one only ever mirrored in the eyes of a guardian fiercely protective of his kin. Everything about him was a solid, coiled threat, a promise to truly cause harm to this professor regardless of the consequences. It took quite a bit of restraint to refrain from beating him right then and there but he finally managed to pull away and stride towards the door without another word. As he moved, Tadashi unzipped his duffel bag and revealed his tonfas, wrapped together with his black belt. He knew that Shinji had seen them when he heard the cluttered sounds of his body crumbling against the podium.

By the time the door had shut behind him he was confident that he'd be seeing no more of his little brother's former professor until court. If even then.

Walking down the hall to his morning class, he smiled.

* * *

_[9:23 AM]_

_[Abigail]_

It had been hard- very hard- to wake up and realize that while the world around you was the same way it had always been, so much had changed. She didn't know where her friends had gone, or why her former coworkers all looked so guilty. She didn't remember what had put her in that coma and she wasn't totally sure she wanted to know where she had been all this time.

They told her she'd been rescued after a failed experiment had gone disarray. They told her a little boy named Hiro Hamada had saved her life. They'd told her many things but it wasn't until they told her that her father was in prison for the attempted murder of an adolescent, murder of several armed men, kidnapping, and unauthorized experimentation that she'd really stopped listening.

Her father?

Her gentle, loving, generous father had done all these things?

She'd battered her doctors, the police, her friends for more details but they all said the same things:

"_He's just not the same person anymore."_

So that was how she ended up standing here beside a table in a large room, waiting, casually eying various men in orange jumpsuits talking to friends or family. It had been about a month now since she'd woken up on a stretcher with a nurse shining a light in her eye, asking her questions about herself as people shouted about blood and bullet wounds in the distance. She'd be on pills for headaches and memory retention for a little while longer but overall she was doing much better than before.

She felt confident about meeting him now.

She needed to see him, just once.

Just once.

Abigail wasn't ready for what came to her moments later with a guard flanking his side. And it seemed, from the look on his face, neither was he. Her father faltered, blue eyes wide and face pale, mouth gaping open in honest horror.

"A-Abby?" he whispered.

The brunette pursed her lips, lipstick sticky against her skin. She sat down and gestured for him to come closer. He did so slowly, leaving the guard by the door. And as he settled she examined his face.

The first thing she noticed was that he'd lost his smile lines. His brow now had more wrinkles, there were bruises under his eyes, stubble on his face, and he held his shoulders in a defeated way. But, most of all, there was something wrong with his eyes.

"You're alive?" he reached out to her in reverence after a brief pause spent similarly analyzing her but she pulled away with a frown.

_No, _she decided, seeing the flicker of something that was most definitely not her father in his blue orbs, _they're right- They're all right! This isn't the same man anymore._

The love in his eyes was gone. What he looked at her with now was horror, awe, and some plastic replica of affection. Tears began to fill her gaze and she shook her head. Looking at him now she could believe what everyone had said. She could see the man from the news had taken her father's place.

"Abby-" he began, trying to console her. Shaking her head again the brunette woman stood up, "Abby!"

"You're not the same man anymore, Papa," she told him, stepping back and whispering into her hands, "What have you done?"

A guard was approaching them, questions already falling from his lips but neither heard him.

"Papa, what have you _become?_"

She watched despair and guilt fill his eyes before he bowed his head and choked on his words, "I don't know anymore."

* * *

_[6:23 PM]_

_[Tadashi]_

Almost as soon as he reached the top of the stairs and started towards the living room Tadashi had to duck, a red Daruma doll spinning over his head. It clattered into the wall behind him and then tumbled down the stairs, a youthful shout following it's decent.

"Tadashi- you _jerk!_" Standing in a half crouched position with his hands held out in defense, crossed in front of his face, the older brother peeked over his arms. In the little living room built beside the open kitchen space he saw his little brother sitting on the couch surrounded by a nest of blankets and both amused as well as alarmed friends. His pale face was a glow under the lights and even as he continued Tadashi hurried forward to check him over, "What the heck did you do to my designs!?"

Upon first arriving home last week Hiro had certainly made some strange demands- well, strange in the beginning. It wasn't until Tadashi was holding a deactivated bomb in his hands and his little brother was tearing apart a camera he'd found from no-where in their room that he'd realized there was real reason behind his odd remarks. It was eerie to learn that while Tadashi was searching Hiro's captors had used _him _to get leverage over his little brother. It was also scary to discover that the younger would have refused to hell and back no matter happened to his body if they hadn't.

The thought made him shudder.

"Hey, go easy on him, little guy," Wasabi laughed, reminding Tadashi of his friends' promise to visit, "he did his best." Hiro wiggled away from his older brother as he tried to feel for his temperature, bumping into Honey in his attempts to escape.

"'His best'?!" the teen cried in outrage, seemingly unaware of the amusement on Gogo's face as she leaned against the couch from her position on the floor, "he completely butchered these! And that says _nothing _about all the lines he crossed by _finding _them in the first place!" Strewn about the room were pieces of paper and dotting among various pens and pencils Tadashi found the weapons he'd made for them.

Satisfied that his little brother was okay despite his pale complexion and the slight tint to his cheeks, Tadashi sighed with relief. He let his hand fall towards Hiro's ear before grabbing the lobe and yanking savagely on it, expression deadpan.

"Who's a jerk?" he demanded, comically irritable.

"Ow-owowow," Hiro cried, hands scrabbling against his elder's chest as the others laughed lightly, "You are, you _jerk._"

"Heeeeeeehhhhhhh?" Tadashi breathed thoughtfully, pulling a little harder.

Even as the slightest of tears filled the corners of his brother's eyes, Hiro refused to submit. He grabbed Tadashi's hands and tried to pry them away, "Go away, get off!"

"Not until you apologize to your aniki," Tadashi bargained. Gogo smiled at that but the others looked a little confused, less fluent with Japanese as the speedster. Something like recognition might have popped up in Fred's eyes but he wasn't much of one for manga, preferring "good ol' American comics."

It took a bit before Hiro acquiesced, shouting, "Okay, okay, ah- gomengomengomen!"* Apology received, the older Hamada released him and pretended not to notice the scathing look.

"Yoi," he murmured, satisfied, then turned his attention to the mess on the floor, "What were you guys doing?"*

"_They _were doing homework," Fred said, jabbing his thumb at the general area of his student friends, "_we,_" he pointed to himself and Hiro, "were watching _Giant Robot Monsters IV: Battle on Mars._" Tadashi looked over just in time to witness two mechas clash against each other, their pilots howling with the rage of battle. An eyebrow rose up to his hairline and he looked at his brother.

"It's a good movie!" Hiro defended, rubbing his ear.

"Hell yeah it is!" Fred called, jumping over the couch and plopping down next to Gogo, who also seemed to find the movie entertaining- if only a little bit.

Just as Tadashi was about to reprimand his friend for cursing, Aunt Cass's voice filtered in from the stairs, "No swearing in the Hamada household!"

Startled, the comic-nerd jerked and leaned to the side so he could see out the doorway and into the kitchen at the farthest side of the other room, "Sorry!"

The brunette nodded in acceptance, then turned her eyes on Tadashi, "I'm keeping the shop open a little later tonight, can you get dinner started?"

"Sure," he smiled brightly. He always enjoyed cooking for their little family. Standing up he headed to the kitchen table, "What did you have in mind?"

As he discussed dinner plans with his aunt, preparing a big meal so his friends could stay over for the evening he kept one ear trained in the direction of his little brother. After a few short moments Aunt Cass returned to the café to serve her patrons and deal with the dinner rush, leaving Tadashi to fill the condo with the smells of Japanese food. Content, he listened to his friends bicker playfully, tease his brother, and be surprised by his attention to detail. He almost laughed out loud when Fred told Gogo she should make a mecha for him like one of the ones in the film and, while of course the girl refused, Hiro piped up and thoughtfully chattered on about how that might work. When he was finished the living room was filled with silence disturbed only by the movie and he'd become the center of attention.

"W-what?" Hiro began, sounding terribly unsure of himself, only to be interrupted by Wasabi.

"How did you-"

Then Honey squealed, "Oh my gosh, you are _so _smart!" Similar cries came from the rest. Tadashi came to his brother's rescue only after he heard him call 'owowow, my stitches, Honey- they're pulling!'

Laughing he ruffled Hiro's hair affectionately after pulling him out from under a tangle of limbs and blond hair. Pride, joy, and resolution swelled in his heart as he watched that familiar face flush endearingly underneath his hand even as his brother pushed him away with a huff of frustration.

_I'll never let anything happen to you, ever again._

_I promise, brother. _

_I promise._

* * *

_*-me:_ _A derogatory honorific, used when you refer to people, things, or concepts you're a) pissed at, b) deem despicable/inferior. Not really used as often as you might think._

_*_ -_kouhai: The inverse of -senpai/-sempai, meaning someone of a lower class year or lower seniority than the speaker. It's not strictly speaking an honorific since it's not normally attached to a name, and it's considered rude to use to a person's face._

_*gomen: Japanese for 'sorry'._

_*Yoi: Good._

_Alrighty! How was that? (How much of my Japanese was horribly, embarrassingly, terribly wrong? ;D) _

_Yeah, yeah I know there's still stuff you guys want to see written (Hiro getting shot from Tadashi's POV is at the top of the list! And I understand why but, really, my hands are tied, guys, I'm sorry…). Likewise, I'll admit that there is still stuff that _I _want to write too. Sadly, because of my schedule and other commitments my hands are too occupied. However, sometime I do plan on writing a _**sequel**_ to this story that focuses on how both brothers recover from the trauma they've been dealt. You'll see nightmares, trust issues, and more in that one- from both brothers. Don't expect to see that come up anytime soon because I don't expect to get to it until this time next year. ;A; We'll have to see… (Earliest I can get to is summer 2015. Latest I can get to it is winter 2015.)_

_Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who not only followed, favorited, and/or reviewed but all those who enjoyed the story! If you didn't enjoy it then I'm sorry but I appreciate the fact that you gave it a chance. I hope you have better luck next time. ;) _

_I hope to see you all in the sequel- whenever that gets up- and maybe in the next couple of chapters for "The Ginko Riots". Have a _wonderful _New Years, be safe, and don't worry so much about 2015. Just try to live life as it comes. :)_

_One last,_

_CHEERS! _


End file.
